The Darkest King
by RedMamba
Summary: Harry ran away from the Dursleys that fateful evening, but the black dog followed him and strange dreams made their way to Harry... This new school year will be more than just recapturing Sirius Black, Harry will have to face a destiny he did not know of. AU, Powerful!Independent!Harry
1. The Dog Follows and The First Dream

Hello there

Yes, new story! The plot bunny for this one came jumping on me quite suddenly after I had read fanfictions in other categories, too and it just stayed in my mind wanting to be written down.  
For you who know my story "Somehing more": it is still going on, I'm waiting now for the document to come back after my old computer died... and I survived the shock of thinking I lost everything. What did I learn? Always make a copy of everything, always.

**Disclaimer**: All the characters, places and copyrighted things do not belong to me but to the awesome J.K. Rowling, only the plot is mine. (Although I'm not that sure I'm the first one writing something like this... what do you know in nearly 650'000 stories, I seriously didn't look them through...)

Then let's get this started, have fun!

* * *

_SIRIUS BLACK ESCAPES AZKABAN!_

_Known mass murderer and loyal follower of you-know-who broke out of the seemingly inescapable prison of Azkaban..._

* * *

The headlines of the wizarding newspapers were for the informed wizard shocking and made some lighter hearted individuals faint, but not so the wizard inhabiting 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.

He had heard of the escaped convict in Muggle news and was not so concerned about an escapee with a gun. Of course Harry Potter did not know that said escapee was a wizard and had broken out of the most terrible and best guarded prison in the whole of wizarding Britain, if not the whole wizarding world. Of course he also did not know that Sirius Black, mass murderer and you-know-whose follower, was after him.

Harry Potter had different sorrows than the wizarding part of Britain had; he was more worried about supper this evening. His aunt (or rather Dudley's aunt) was coming over and he didn't particularly like this relative of his, and to top it off the feeling was mutual. After her bulldog Ripper had chased him onto a tree and wouldn't let him come down until told so by said aunt; he liked Aunt Marge even less.

So it was no wonder that he dreaded the coming evening. However, the allowance to go to Hogsmeade, a village near his school Hogwarts, depended on how well he behaved, meaning there should be no outburst of accidental magic. And this depended heavily on how Harry felt, with Aunt Marge in the house Harry was not so sure he could reign his feelings in enough to not accidentally do magic and thus lose every hope of going to the only one hundred percent wizarding village.

It came how it had to come. The evening was quite pleasant, because no one really minded Harry and only told him to do the dishes and bring out the food. He was used to do the chores and thought nothing of it. He was standing behind the counter when Aunt Marge started mouthing off.

"_Bad blood will out. Now, I'm saying nothing against your family, Petunia, but your sister was a bad egg. They turn up in the best families. Then she ran off with a wastrel and here's the result right in front of us."_**_*_**

It was this comment that started a row of several unfortunate accidents. If Aunt Marge had left it as that and had not felt the need to push her luck further, for you can only call it this with a wizard in your vicinity, she might not have been blown up like a balloon. She didn't know of Harry's powers and even though she must have felt something she pushed it to her own power and so she ended up floating in 4 Privet Drive.

Harry knew he had just done something quite bad and might even be suspended from Hogwarts, however right then he felt very frustrated and just wanted his Aunt to _shut up _and never ever talk about his parents in such a way. After all they had made the greatest sacrifice one could do for another human being and here he was still living and fighting. He would not tolerate her talking badly about his parents and his magic reacted accordingly.

He left in a hurry. After he had seen what he did he ran up the stairs and down the corridor to his tiny room, threw his school stuff and some spare clothes into his trunk, took his wand and rand down the stairs to the foyer. Uncle Vernon stood there before him, face almost purple from anger and ready to explode; Harry thought he saw Dudley grinning behind Uncle Vernon. Then again Harry didn't have the nerve to deal with his fuming Uncle. He held his wand to said person's forehead.

"You aren't allowed to use that outside of school!" his uncle yelled, although Harry saw the fear behind the anger in Uncle Vernon's small eyes.

"I don't care right now. I can't stand it here for another moment, I'll leave" Harry said. He noticed he sounded more convinced and threatening than what he had aimed at, well, that was okay.

To that Uncle Vernon didn't say anything, just stood there like he had seen a ghost or walked right through one. This was Harry's cue to leave. He threw the door open and hoisted his trunk into the cool night and was off. He made a quite funny picture the way he was walking his anger out and dragging his big trunk and owl cage with him.

Suddenly it became clear to him that he didn't know where to go now. He had walked to Magnolia Crescent and only now he started to think about the consequence that leaving his relative's house meant. He had nowhere to go to and he had no money for a ready use, except for some Silver-Sickles and a few Knuts. Wizarding money wouldn't help him in the Muggle world at all, Harry thought as he dejectedly sat onto his trunk. He had been sitting there for some minutes, when he heard something across from him. There were some bushes, but behind or within them was something that made the leaves rustle.

It was a black, shaggy dog. It looked at him as if it would know him. Harry started to panic, he had never once in his life seen such a big dog and the way it looked reminded him of pictures of hungry wolves. The dog was seriously undernourished and made an overall sickly impression, but that didn't make it any less frightening. Then Harry heard the dog whine softly or at least he believed he had heard a whine. The dog was now slowly making its way to where Harry was sitting. The thought of jumping up and running crossed the young wizard's mind, but he wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing, so he just sat there and waited for the dog to come.

What struck Harry as even odder than the appearance of the dog, was the fact that the black mutt seemed to look before crossing the road. Slowly it traversed the street and came standing before Harry, its eyes seemed to be kind of happy. Harry felt somehow understood and involuntarily reached out to pet the dog. It whined softly and laid its head on Harry's knees.

"Now, what do I do? Can you tell me?" Harry asked and felt unbelievably stupid. Here he was, sitting on his trunk some hundred meters from his relative's house and talked to a stray dog. Some wizard he was.

However, the dog had understood and was now nudging his wand-hand.

"No, no, no. Don't do that, dog," Harry said and lifted his wand up higher so that the dog wouldn't reach it.

In that moment the dog yelped happily and there was a loud _bang! _and before him stood a three storey bus in a shade of purple that reminded Harry heavily of a very sappy sundown. Out of the bus came a very young man who had pimples all over his face and salad leaves for ears.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, Stan Shunpike my name and your conductor tonight. Where shall we bring you and your dog?" the man said in rapid succession so that Harry had trouble following after the surprising appearance of the bus. "What is your name?"

Here Harry was fast, he knew he couldn't give his real name. "Neville Longbottom" he said. It was the first name that popped in his mind.

"Okay, Neville," Stan said and looked him over, straying to his forehead and Harry self-consciously brushed his bangs in front of his scar. Stan didn't seem to notice anything strange. Then he looked at Harry's stuff and lastly at the dog. "Does the dog come with you?"

Somehow it disturbed Harry when Stan said dog, it sounded derogatory and the dog had been nice to him. Without it Harry wouldn't have found the Knight Bus. Harry simply nodded, he had to think of a name for the dog if he was keeping him.

"Then get in, get in. We're leaving shortly," Stan ushered and as Harry wanted to lift his trunk Stan shoved him aside. "I'll do that, go in, get in."

The dog had already jumped into the bus and was now looking expectantly at Harry. The boy just rolled his eyes and also went in. He just had thought of a name for the dog. He had glimpsed at the night sky and seen one of the most prominent constellations even in the Muggle world.

"You take that bed there," Stan said suddenly from next to him. "Where you going, Neville?"

"The Leaky Cauldron, London," Harry answered. "Which bed?"

Stan told the driver something and now could answer the question: "The one down there on this floor, we don't want dog hair on the upper levels… that makes eleven Sickles for you, 'though if you want to have hot chocolate it's thirteen and for the dog…"

"It's Orion," Harry interrupted. "The dog's name is Orion."

Stan looked at him as if he was insane and then continued: "Well, six Sickles if he behaves and ten if he doesn't, sounds okay for you?"

It wasn't a question and Harry didn't understand it as such. He took his wallet out and counted some of the silver coins into Stan's hand and then trudged to the indicated bed. The dog was lying on the floor next to the bed and was watching Harry move.

"It's okay, right? Your name?" Harry asked and tried to tell what the dog was saying to him. The dog simply yapped once and wagged its tail, Harry understood it as 'it's okay'.

They had driven some way and let an elderly woman out of the bus, when Harry saw the newspaper in Stan's hands. On the first page was the picture of a man with a gaunt face and longish black hair; he had once been very handsome Harry could tell, but something had made him lose all that. Only his eyes didn't fit in the picture, they were much too clear and had some kind of purpose lighting them up. The headline was:

_SIRIUS BLACK –STILL NOT FOUND!_

The name rang a bell somewhere in Harry's mind. He remembered, it was in the news a few days ago. Some escaped convict with a gun… but that did not make sense. Why would the wizarding news bring something about a Muggle? What if he was a wizard, who was so dangerous even Muggles needed to take safety measures?

"That man on the newspaper… I saw him in the Muggle news," Harry began tentatively.

Immediately Stan leaped into action. After admonishing Harry about how little he knew of the wizarding world and its happenings, from Voldemort's fall –he had had quite the shock when Harry had spoken the name –until the day Sirius Black was arrested and put into Azkaban. Harry felt the mood sink when they spoke about the wizarding prison, it felt as if there was an unnamed terror lurking beneath the very existence of Azkaban. Even Orion made the impression of being haunted by some nasty memories.

All too soon they had reached the Leaky Cauldron. Tom the landlord stood outside, as if he was awaiting Harry's arrival. He took Harry's trunk and, after stopping a car alarm nearby, led Harry and Orion inside the dusty pub. It was eerily still compared to his last visit a year ago, there were only some already snoring people in. Tom waved him upstairs and Harry felt dread settle in his stomach; he was happy for Orion's company. The landlord stopped before a door that stood out from the others in the way it had carvings in it; the door seemed to be there only for important business. Harry gulped and hoped for the best, but was expecting the worst.

Tom opened the door, ushered Harry in and closed it again. The room was truly impressive, with its ornate walls and the actually well-preserved rug, the tall windows opposite the door and the massive chairs and the heavy desk. There, leaning on that dark desk, was Cornelius Fudge in his capacity as British Minister of Magic in person. The lime green bowler appeared worse for wear and the way in which Fudge looked at Harry made it even worse.

Orion next to him was growling lowly and moved so that he was in front of Harry. Harry briefly wondered what made the dog so protective of him, but then he saw Hedwig sitting on a post and couldn't suppress his joy. He reached over to her and she faithfully flew to him and nibbled his ear in a loving way. He had worried that Hedwig wouldn't find him after he left the Dursleys but seeing her now made all his worries unnecessary. He truly had an intelligent companion.

The minister cleared his throat and Harry immediately went back to his more panicky state. What if he was expelled and his wand snapped? What should he do then?

"It is nice to see you, Harry Potter, whole and healthy," Fudge said. "After your rather adventurous journey here it is good to see you in one piece…"

Had he expected Harry to die? "Mr Fudge… am I going to be expelled? I used magic in front of Muggles…" Harry asked quetly and tried to look as innocent as possible, first things first, he could always ask about the strange greeting later.

Fudge was surprised and Harry saw that. "No, of course not, that was accidental magic and can happen even to the best of us. On that note it may interest you that we successfully de-inflated your aunt and modified her memory so that she cannot recall your magical outburst."

Harry let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Orion before him also relaxed and stepped back beside him, but still looked at the minister as if he was only waiting to bite him. Harry petted the big dog's head and Orion settled on the floor. All the while Fudge had looked worried at Harry, the boy didn't know in what kind of predicament he was in and it was his duty as Minister of Magic to ensure the Boy-Who-Lived's safety.

"What am I going to do now?" Harry asked. He absolutely didn't want to go back to the Dursleys.

Fudge said: "You are allowed to stay here at the Leaky Cauldron until the new term starts, or you can go back to your relative's if you like. The only restriction that comes with staying here is that you are forbidden to go out at night without anyone with you. Daytime is no problem, but stay inside at night."

Harry felt compelled to nod his agreement, for once Cornelius Fudge really felt like the authority person his position required. The atmosphere in the room was immediately much more relaxed after Harry had agreed and only now he noticed the stiffness that had been in the posture of the minister. Fudge put his impossible bowler on his head and left the room with Harry and both animals in tow. Then he left Harry in Tom's care and departed for the ministry. Somehow Harry had missed the opportunity to ask why he shouldn't have arrived in one piece…

Tom showed Harry his room where all his stuff already was and asked if Harry wanted anything. Harry politely refused saying he would call if he needed anything and collapsed onto his bed, a disgruntled Hedwig flying onto the windowsill. Orion sat beside the bed and looked at Harry. He smiled and patted the dog's head and was rewarded a happy bark. From somewhere Harry could pull the energy to leave the bed once more and change his clothes and brush his teeth. As soon as his head touched the pillow Harry was asleep.

* * *

_It was dark and cold, something crept underneath everything. It was nothing but a hunch, a vague feeling of dread and hopelessness. He soared over it, carried only by his will and the will of something dark. The dark didn't want him to drop and be swallowed by the creeping fears under him in the fleeting world. It was as if the dark would protect him from all harm the despair wanted him to feel. He felt the dark's soft clothing flutter around him._

_He knew he was dreaming. The moment this sunk in there was a whisper around him. It came and went like wind and was like a sigh, only a breath in nothingness. The dark whispered to him. It was soothing and calmed his erratic mind. He had suddenly felt the endless depths under him, the ravenous blackness he felt pulsing. The dark was not the same as the void of blackness underneath._

_He sighed and continued soaring the endless places he was in in his dreams. The dark accompanied him for the whole journey and held him up, it made him feel as if he was floating. It was a feeling of calmness and a strange sort of feeling to belong while he was carried by the dark._

_It was cold. The dark was breathing coldness, helplessness. It made his skin crawl and his nerves flatter, there was a scream buried underneath the endless blackness. He didn't fall, but he was now only held by the dark; it prevented his falling into the depth of nothing but fear and despair. The dark held him and whispered soothing nothings in its cold voice. He didn't understand what was said, but he felt the pull of the nothingness that a dream's end brought. The dark steered into that direction and helped him find the calmness of a nothing._

* * *

_It was neither black nor white; it was neither big nor small; it was full of colours and empty of all colour; it was full of noises and quieter than the early hours of a day; it was full of smells nice and disgusting and it had no smell at all. It was nothing. He was unaware of everything around him and slept dreamlessly._

* * *

_The dark went back to its resting place in the blackest parts of his mind, even deeper down than the valley of hopelessness and dread. There was no need for it to come forth just yet, it had not been summoned yet. The dark could still sleep in its nest of ice and despair._

_Its king would call him when the dark was needed. He would understand the murmuring coldness sooner or later. If the protection for the king's mind could do it, the protection would prevent the call from reaching the dark. The dark although knew better; its king had been and still was protected and had not felt the dark in his waking, but he would sense the dark and all its followers sooner rather than later. Soon the peace would be broken by the summoning and the king could finally wield all his terrible powers._

_The king still slept dreamlessly._

* * *

*****taken directly from Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, J.K. Rowling

I hope you liked the story so far and will accompany me on the journey writing this story will be. :)  
RedMamba


	2. Old Times and A Testament

Hello and welcome to the second chapter of "The Darkest King"

Thank you for reading the story :)  
(Review answers after the chappy)

**Disclaimer:** All the rights to characters, places and copyrighted things go to the fantastic J.K. Rowling, only the plot is mine. I also do not make any money off of this.

* * *

Harry woke to an unfamiliar weight next to him on the mattress. He felt his body roll towards the weight and woke just in time to see Orion lying next to him and looking at him. The dog had startlingly grey eyes. Orion yapped and jumped out of the bed and began walking here and there, obviously he thought it time for Harry to wake. Hedwig hooted disapprovingly from her resting place. It didn't distract the hyper dog.

"Okay, okay, I'm awake now, Orion," Harry laughed and stood up. The dog inclined his head and watched Harry gather his clothes. Harry disappeared to the bathroom, showered long and hot, and when he stepped back into the room he felt so much better than the day before.

Only now he paid attention to the room he had slept in. The bed was the most noticeable piece of furniture in the room; it was almost bigger than Harry's room at 4 Privet Drive, he thought. Next to the bed was a bedside table and on top of that an old looking lamp. He had two windows facing a railway; they had to be made impenetrable for sound, because Harry hadn't heard any noises and he was a light sleeper. Obviously, it had an adjacent bathroom. All in all it was a comfy room and Harry for once was not cursing his fame.

Orion nudged him and pulled at his sleeve. That was when Harry saw something on top of his bedside table that didn't look like it belonged there. Driven by his curiosity Harry walked over to the table and was surprised to find a letter addressed to him.

_To  
Mr Harry James Potter_

Only his full name stood on the envelope and even after flipping it over several times he found nothing more on the clear white paper. He had no choice but to open the letter. Orion was sitting awfully still beside him, almost worried. Absentmindedly Harry patted the dog's head and sat on his bed. He found a sharp quill he used as a letter opener. The parchment inside was of very good quality.

_Dear Harry  
You won't know me, but be sure that I know somewhat of you. Obviously every self-respecting wizard would know you after what you did, but I digress… First of all I wanted to congratulate you for your thirteenth birthday, although a bit late, I haven't been there for you the past twelve years and I'm really sorry. I guess I'll send you a gift I find appropriate at a later time, when I know more of you.  
Let me tell you, you remind me strongly of your father… he also had this unruly hair you possess, but the eyes, they are your mother's… you certainly are sick of hearing this, but I felt you needed to hear it from someone who knew your parents well. Maybe at a different time I will tell you about them. After all this is not a letter to reminiscence old times. I believe you are a very strong person on your own.  
By the way, your owl is a magnificent creature. You called her Hedwig, right? She is really a wonderful snowy owl.  
The second, more important point, of this letter is to point out to you that you should go hear your parents' Will. I guess you have not heard it before for you are still a minor, but the goblins at Gringotts will be glad to tell you the Will. After all the Potters are one of the few families that always had their valuables protected by goblins. You should only hear of it when you come of age, but it won't hurt to know what you inherited and what kind of world you live in. I can only tell you one inheritance, because I knew that James had it; you are the legitimate Lord Potter and Head of the House Potter when you reach maturity – ore are deemed able to have the power of those titles, maybe there is some more lordships and/or titles with that one, but James never really talked about it.  
Promise me, you go to the bank sometime. It doesn't have to be today, not even tomorrow, but visit Gringotts whenever you feel ready. Ask for Thorclawe, I believe he is the Potter accountant.  
Sincerely  
Padfoot_

Several questions swirled in Harry's mind and he had to sort his thoughts first before he could actually understand what the letter had just told him. So he had somewhere a person, who knew where he was and knew his parents and him, but couldn't contact Harry for whatever reasons in the past twelve years. Plus, this person called himself Padfoot. Harry was quite sure it wasn't a woman, who had written the letter to him. How did the person know where Harry was? He was not so sure to be happy to have been found already, but guessed he couldn't do anything about it.

"Might as well go to Gringotts," Harry mumbled and put the letter in his pocket. He didn't want to let it lie around. He had wanted to go to the wizarding bank anyways and had now even more reasons to. "Do you want to come with me, Orion?"

The dog barked and wagged its tail, Harry took it as a 'yes' and left the room, but not without opening a window so Hedwig could fly out. He stroked her soft plumage and wished her restful sleep. He went downstairs to the pub and greeted Tom, before he quickly disappeared to the entrance to Diagon Alley. He tapped the right brick on the wall and soon found himself in front of the familiar sights of the wizarding shopping street. Immediately Harry felt at home and happier, even though there were already some people whispering around him. He had learned not to pay them any attention and after the rumour of him being Salazar Slytherin's heir he could practically turn off every whisper and glance towards him. He strolled down and stopped here and there to look at the products. He went to a group of people, who were standing outside Quality Quidditch Supplies and looking at its windows. Harry's curiosity piped up and he somehow made his way to the shop window. There, in all its glory, was the most beautiful broomstick Harry had ever laid eyes upon, including his Nimbus 2000. Next to him he heard a boy say to another one: "That's the Firebolt! Best broomstick ever made… aw, I wish I could afford one…"

_Firebolt… _Harry had the sudden urge to go inside and ask for the price, but knew he probably had to empty his vault at Gringotts, and besides he already had his Nimbus 2000. Defeated Harry pushed a way out of the group and found Orion waiting for him. He smiled at the dog and continued his strolling. Quite soon he came to the white marble building that was the wizarding bank. He climbed the few stairs and went past the two goblin guards into Gringotts. He noticed that Orion wasn't following him anymore and turned to look at the black dog, but failed to see him. Harry shrugged, maybe Orion was wandering about or had left; he was a stray dog after all.

* * *

"What can I do for you?" a goblin teller asked with the distinctive gruffness in a goblin's voice. This was one thing Harry liked about the goblins, they didn't treat him differently to other customers.

"I'd like to speak to the Potter accountant, I think his name was Thorclawe?" Harry answered politely.

The goblin looked up and, after verifying Harry's identity per his scar, called another goblin to him and spoke in rapid Gobbledegook, then the other goblin ran off.

"If you waited for a moment, I sent Bargolt for Thorclawe. I'm sure he will be seeing you in a moment," the goblin said and gestured Harry to a hallway on his left.

The teller had been very precise. After maybe three minutes a well-dressed and important appearing goblin came walking down the corridor. He looked expectantly at Harry and seemed to scrutinize him at the same time. The goblin had an exceedingly intelligent spark in his eyes.

"Hello, Mr Thorclawe, I'm Harry Potter… I'd liked to talk to you about the Will of my parents," Harry told him quietly.

Thorclawe nodded sharply. "Yes, Mr Potter, please follow me."

The goblin abruptly turned and walked the hallway the same way down he had come up just a few moments ago. He led Harry through impressive corridors where golden decorations were embedded in the snow-white marble walls and here and there were intricate ornaments lining the few pillars that held the bank's roof's weight. After walking for ten minutes Thorclawe and Harry arrived at an ebony door with silver handles. With a simple touch from Thorclawe the doors swung open to reveal an imposing office.

The ceiling was very high and the marble of which the room was made was not completely white, but now had a few black streaks in it. Within stood only a solid ebony desk and two dark office chairs, one behind the desk the other in front of it. There were no windows and the only way out was the only way in. Thorclawe made his way to behind his desk and rummaged through some of the desk drawers. He gestured for Harry to sit in the office chair opposite and the boy did as told.

Finally Thorclawe had found what he was searching for and put the items on his desk. It was a simple piece of parchment, which had in its corners some drawings. In one corner it looked like branches of an ancient tree, another corner had drawings like crashing waves in a thunderstorm, the third corner had flickering flames drawn and the last decoration was an empty circle. Thorclawe had also put a dagger onto the desk Harry noticed. The dagger was pure silver and the handle of it was simple, it had no ornaments at all, but the blade was carved. The whole blade seemed to be one big Celtic knot, in which several precious stones were embedded.

"Would you please give me your hand, Mr Potter?" Thorclawe asked. "I have to verify your identity and I will use your blood to do that."

Harry nodded. If he remembered correctly, Polyjuice Potion didn't change your blood it only changed your looks. He put his hand forth and the goblin quickly grabbed it in his left hand. Thorclawe moved the empty circle on the parchment under Harry's hand and picked the dagger up. Harry turned his head away, the thought of that knife piercing his skin and drawing blood was enough he didn't need to see it. He felt the cut in his right palm and felt his hand be turned around so that the blood would fall on the parchment. His hand was let go.

Harry looked again and saw the cut heal up without leaving a scar and then he looked at the single drop of red within the circle. Almost immediately after he had seen it the droplet vanished. Knowing full well that paper could suck in everything from ink to memories, Harry watched closely at what the paper would show.

First there happened nothing, the circle stayed empty as did the rest of the parchment. Then, from within the ink marking, a red line started to grow. It extended itself so that it touched the rim of the circle and then, suddenly, pushed through, leaving a slightly deformed circle behind. Like a little worm or very tiny snake, it slithered all the way up to the markings that looked like waves. When it intersected them, all the markings moved disorderly, before they all turned a bright sky blue that read _Potter_. The blood flowed to the other side, where he flames were. Once touched, the flames burned an angry, dark red, writing _Harry James_. Finally it made its way up to the branches. It stopped before touching them.

Thorclawe nodded contently. "This verified your identity, Mr Potter. It is old goblin magic and even the best glamours and deception magics cannot overcome it. Before the last part of the parchment I am obliged to ask you, if you wanted to continue."

He lifted his hand when Harry made to speak. "It will show your ancestry to twenty one generations, be it Muggle or wizard or maybe even a magical beast or being. I am also obliged to say, that this parchment, after verifying your identity without showing the ancestry, can also be stored in your personal vault and accessed when you like to, so that your pedigree may be done. Now, would you like to continue, Mr Potter?"

Harry thought about it and when he put his mind to it, he wasn't so sure he wanted to know. Well, he really was interested and clearly wanted to know, but then again his gut told him not to look right now and his instincts usually proved to be quite good.

"No, thank you. I would like to store them and see them at another time. Can we continue with my parents' Will?"

Thorclawe appeared impressed. He took a quill from next to him and drew some runes on the parchment. Immediately all markings disappeared and the parchment rolled up, from somewhere there was a ribbon conjured, which bound the roll together. Harry's name showed up, written in fine golden letters on the red ribbon.

"Of course, it will take me a moment to get the Will," Thorclawe said and stood up. He walked to the wall to the right of Harry and put his hand on it. Then he murmured something in Gobbledegook and the wall became transparent. Harry saw several shelves filled with rolls and rolls of parchment, some were a ghostly white, whereas others were blacker than the night and again others had the colour of blood. Thorclawe looked at the wall and went some steps to the left, away from Harry. From an upper shelf flew a snow-white parchment down, its sides were black as was the ribbon. Although beautiful it looked solemn.

The goblin came back and turned the roll so that Harry could read the inscriptions on its ribbon. In silver was written: _James Potter and Lily Potter_

"Do you really want to open it, Mr Potter?" Thorclawe asked cautiously. At Harry's nod he took the ritual blade and cut the ribbon open right where its knot was. The parchment unrolled and flew in front of Harry, where it hovered in mid-air. It had seen him as its owner and was now presenting itself to be read.

* * *

_Last Will and Testament of James and Lily Potter  
I, James Charlus Potter, and I, Lily Potter née Evans, being of sound mind and body hereby declare this as our joint Last Will and Testament.  
We hereby revoke all former testaments made by either of us alone and declare this as the only valid Last Will and Testament. Should one of us survive the other, this testament has no value.  
As executor of our Last Will and Testament we declare Thorclawe, the Potter accountant in Gringotts, London._

_This first part shall deal with the titles, belongings and possessions of James Potter:  
I, Lord James Charlus Potter, bequeath all my titles (Lord Potter, Head of House Potter, Lord Peverell) to my only son and heir Harry James Potter should he survive me, if he does not survive me, all the titles are left without heir and thus nullified.  
Further, I, Lord James Charlus Potter, bequeath Potter Manor with all objects within and all its magical servants to my only son and heir Harry James Potter should he survive me, if he does not survive me, Potter Manor shall be left to fall to ruin, for there is no further heir to the Potter line, and the magical servants are to be set free and work in Hogwarts. The magical servants are the four House-elves of the House of Potter: Demele, Randa, Moire and Requis. Here a small wish of mine: Please, do not treat the elves badly, they have served the House of Potter for a long time and are quite proud of that. Be wary of Demele, she has the right to hit you with a frying pan if you don't behave well.  
Lastly all material possession and gold lying in the Potter family vault in Gringotts, I, Lord James Charlus Potter, bequeath to my only son and heir Harry James Potter should he survive me, if he does not survive me, all the material possession shall be changed to monetary value and added to the gold and the sum of both divided into three parts. First part shall go to the St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, the second part is to be given to the Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and the third part shall go to the Department of Mysteries in the Ministry of Magic. The account shall be withheld until Harry James Potter comes of age or is trusted to be able to deal with the amount of money the Potter vault has by a test the two goblins Thorclawe and Foressee will perform. I, James Charlus Potter, have given the goblins the authorisation to perform this test._

_This second part shall deal with the titles, belongings and possessions of Lily Potter, née Evans:  
I, Lady Lily Potter, bequeath the Potter vacation manor on the Sigilada Isla* in Cape Verde to my only son and heir Harry James Potter should he survive me, if he does not survive me, the wards around the island cease to protect the isle and the land shall be divided to the people of Cape Verde. The island is untraceable for anyone who does not have Potter blood in his veins or any a living Potter has not explicitly invited to the vacation manor.  
Furthermore, I, Lady Lily Potter, bequeath all my material possessions to my only son and heir, Harry James Potter should he survive me, if he does not survive me, all the possession is to be changed to monetary value and added to the Potter family vault. Hopefully you, Harry, find someday someone, who you can proudly see wearing the Potter jewels.  
Finally, I, Lady Lily Potter, declare all my titles null and void until my only son and heir Harry James Potter marries._

_This third part shall deal with joint possessions and the question of who raises Harry:  
We, Lord James Charlus Potter and Lady Lily Potter, bequeath Harry all our possessions, that are: our house inclusive all objects within in Godric's Hollow, a vacation home inclusive all objects within in Oban, Scotland and lastly the Potter library vault only accessible through the Potter family vault in Gringotts, London to our only son and heir, Harry James Potter.  
All not named properties and remains of any estate shall be given to our only son and heir, Harry James Potter.  
As for who will take Harry James Potter in, following names are listed as possible people to take him in, should they be able to take him in, in order, starting from first priority:  
1. Harry James Potter's godfather and honorary uncle: Sirius Orion Black  
2. Close family friends and Harry James Potter's godmother: Alice Longbottom and her husband Frank Longbottom  
if neither of these can take him in, Harry James Potter shall be given to any loving family willing to take him in._

_We hereby affix our signatures to this, our Last Will and Testament, on this 4th June 1981 at Gringotts, London, in the presence of these two witnesses:_

_Remus John Lupin_

_Potter accountant goblin, Thorclawe_

_Lord James Charlus Potter_

_Lady Lily Potter_

* * *

Harry couldn't believe his eyes. He was stinking rich, maybe not in liquid value, but he possessed a manor with four house-elves and, if he understood correctly, an island in Cape Verde, plus the house he lived his first year in Godric's Hollow and a second vacation house. He shuddered at the thought of how much money was in the vaults he now had. And he possessed a library… that was only accessible through Gringotts. Well, he certainly had things to think about, but Thorclawe's voice brought him back.

"Lord Potter, I understand you are surprised, but there is still one question I have to ask you," the goblin paused and made sure he had Harry's attention. "Do you want access to the Potter vaults?"

"_Ah, yes, they wrote something about a test," _Harry thought. "No, thank you, but I would like to see the account statements of these vaults?"

Thorclawe's face twisted to a grimace where his sharp teeth showed, it took Harry some time to identify it as a smile, and the goblin again stood up, re-sealed the Will and went over to the still transparent wall. He put the Will back and took something from a drawer near the bottom of the shelves. When he came back Harry saw him holding a dark blue jewel case. Harry noticed the goblin holding the case reverently. Instead of going back to his chair Thorclawe came to stand in front of him. He opened the case.

Inside was a silver ring, glittering in the office's light and something that made it shine from within. It was a family ring, woven of several hundred strands of fine silver twisted together to form Celtic knots and on top of it was the Potter family crest. Opposed to other heir rings Harry had seen or heard of this one was not oppressive in its heaviness and embedded stones.

"This is the heir ring of the House of Potter, by right it is yours. If you take it, you can seal all official documents with the rights a Head of House has and you are the only person able to read official Potter documents outside Gringotts. It only connects to the heir of House Potter, no one else can touch it. The title of Head of House is actually yours already, the lordships will be assigned to you when you reach maturity. Do you want to take it?"

"Yes, I'll take it."

Harry had a moment until he realized that he had said that, but he didn't regret it. He also asked for the account statements, for now he could take them with him and read them whenever and wherever he wanted. Thorclawe obliged and somehow Harry had the feeling that the goblin was happy with him. Harry waited for the goblin to sort some papers and give him an official bag (of course with anti-theft charms and whatnot) for carrying these documents around and then bid him a good day.

Once he stepped outside he was surprised to see that it was past noon and he felt rather hungry. On a whim he decided to go to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. He noticed that Orion still hadn't come back… _Sirius Black's middle name was Orion,_ popped unbidden into Harry's mind _and said person was also his godfather…_

He had a lot to think about.

* * *

*Sigilada isla= the secret island

Well, thank you for reading it :) Here the promised review-answers (please say if you don't want to be answered like this):

**TheAngelofOblivion-DarkMadness: **Thank you very much for the first review to this story! And for it being so encouraging! :) No, the ending was just a dream, but a prophecy will follow (as always I guess?) :) As for bashing: No, I don't bash and I haven't planned on doing so. As for who's on who's side, you have to wait a bit ;)

**Man of Constant Sorrow:** o.O - this was my expression when I saw the review. Thank you very much for the review! Well, school will be a topic of course, but I haven't yet decided if I wanted him to switch courses... about Ron (what do you all have against him? T.T) I will come to his defences again: I can understand his reactions in GoF, he has five amazing brothers and whatever he does "someone has already done it", then he is Harry's friend, what labels him somewhat, too. Then his reaction in GoF is understandable, after all he never gets anywhere any possibility to prove himself so he can be praised. :) Sorry, I just like the whole Weasley-clan :D Neville, Luna and the Slytherins, well, you have to wait and see. (I always wanted to say that... :D)

**Pokemon Master Razit:** Thank you for the review! :)

* * *

Until next time!  
RedMamba


	3. Shaking Hands and The Second Dream

Hi there and welcome to the third chapter of TDK  
(yaay, an abbreviation)

I'd like to thank you all for favoriting and following this story, I am truly grateful for your support.  
(Review answers again after the chapter^^)

**Disclaimer:** The product "Harry Potter" is not mine and I don't make any money off of this.

* * *

Harry had halfway eaten his lemon sorbet with chocolate chunks and caramel cream sundae when he saw Orion again. The dog seemed to be looking for something so Harry decided to call him. At his name Orion's head shot up and he searched for Harry and when he found the young wizard sitting at a table outside went to him, tail wagging and appearing happy. Harry noticed that the dog still was incredibly thin and remembered with shock that he hadn't fed the poor thing.

He was so close to give him his sundae, but remembered that dogs usually didn't like sour things. Decidedly he went and got a simple cream sundae and put the bowl on the floor. Orion eyed the ice cream confusedly and Harry had to laugh at how adorable the dog looked.

"Eat. I'll have to think about how I feed you if you are going to stay with me, Orion, and everything else a dog owner has to know" Harry said looking guilty and pointed to the bowl.

Orion happily obliged and started to lick the bowl. This earned some strange looks from other guests, but when they saw Harry they somehow accepted it. Harry didn't know if he should be happy or angry, because had he not been the "Boy-Who-Lived" people would have told him off, which would be a very right thing to do. He sighed, pushed those thoughts aside and opened the bag with the documents. He took some rolls of parchment out and saw several people glance curiously over to him. Chuckling he unrolled one of the papers and thought how strange this had to look. He was the only one who could read these documents; for every other person it looked like an empty piece. He thanked the heir ring and started to read the document.

After five minutes he gave up. It was written in that very bureaucratic formal form no person, who has not studied law, could possibly read. And it was about something that did not concern him just yet, he thought, but he couldn't be sure. Well, it hadn't bothered him in the last two years, it won't bother him now. He coiled the paper up and put it back in the bag, taking another one out. This was more interesting, it was about who owed him how much and whom he owed what. The first foot long was some dry babble, but then Harry found the interesting part. He grinned as he read:

* * *

_In debt to the Potter family:  
Bones family: 100'000 Galleons, 25 Knuts (interest included)  
Malfoy family: 800'000 Galleons, 4 Sickles and 14 Knuts (interest included)  
Longbottom family: 24'000 Galleons, 13 Sickles and 3 Knuts (interest included)_

_Potter family debt:  
Abbott family: 24'000 Galleons, 13 Sickles and 3 Knuts (interest included)  
Greengrass family: 1'700 Galleons flat (interest included)  
Prevett family: 87'000 Galleons 7 Sickles and 22 Knuts (interest included)_

* * *

All in all Harry would get around a million Galleons if he called the money in from the families, who owed him something and he would give something around a hundred thousand to families he was indebted to. He knew about the Abbotts, if he remembered correctly Hannah Abbott was in his year in Hogwarts in which house he couldn't remember, but it wasn't Gryffindor; and the Greengrasses, some girl in his year was a Greengrass and in Slytherin, but Harry hadn't heard of the Prevetts. He would ask someone he knew about this family.

"_Wait a moment…"_ Harry thought. It sunk in. "_How much money do I have that my ancestors could easily give eight hundred thousand Galleons to someone else and still be considered rich?"_

He was shocked to say the least. He rolled the parchment up again and searched in the bag for the account statements and information about shares he possessed. What colour did they have again? "_Account statements are usually cream coloured with a golden rim"_ Thorclawe's words rang in his mind. He looked at the different rolls until he found the right one. When he drew it out he heard several people move their chairs a bit, it seemed that this colour of parchment was known. Again he thanked the heir ring for the magic it did.

* * *

_Account statements for the Potter family vault:  
Any information about the location of the vault may be inquired only from the Potter accountant goblin and only by the Head of House Potter. The Potter family vault is highly secured._

_Stationary funds:  
Jewels: approx. 187'000 Galleons  
Paintings: approx. 42'000 Galleons  
Library vault: books worth approx. 53'963'000 Galleons_

_Liquid funds:  
Potter vault: 36'173'902 Galleons, 12 Sickles and 28 Knuts  
Interest: 1.1%_

_Vault 687: 2'500 Galleons, 25'000 Sickles and 30'000 Knuts  
Interest: none, always to be filled to this stand at the beginning of a year_

_Shares:  
Daily Prophet: 12%  
Eeylops Owl Emporium: 15%  
Amanuensis Quills: 22%  
Madam Primpernelle's Beautifying Potions: 44%_

* * *

Harry's hands were shaking. He was overwhelmed, and that was putting it lightly. He had to put the parchment onto the table and concentrate on breathing. In and out, in and out, again. This was absolutely over the top. "_Merlin, I probably could buy myself half a country…"_ Harry thought.

He had had no idea of this money and he thought that maybe that was good, because he couldn't bring himself to realize just now what exactly he was supposed to do with millions of Galleons, neither could he picture such an amount of money. Hell, his vault 687 contained two and a half thousand Galleons and he thought that was much, it probably was, too, it seemed only very minuscule when compared to the family vault. And that was only the liquid value. This was going to change him, Harry knew. No matter what people said, money always changes them; not necessarily in bad ways, but mostly, because it was most often used to show off and make people do what you wanted them to do, bribery. All the shares to different companies didn't faze him much, he was too young to be in any commission and couldn't vote. He absolutely wanted to have a look at his family library though, it was worth even more than the Potter vault and that was something Harry couldn't picture.

He shook his head and rolled the parchment up, even though he knew other people couldn't read it he didn't like leaving it in the open. It felt somehow wrong. He turned the creamy document in his hands and thought about what would now happen. As he came to no clear idea, he put it back and drew a parchment randomly out. It was old and tattered, its colour was something between ochre and cream, and it felt more like leather than the fine parchment usually used; it was old enough to not have been split to make it thinner.

Orion was watching him intently as he unrolled the parchment. Harry petted the dog's head and took the bowl off the floor. He watched as the ink on the paper formed in front of his eyes like it had done on every other document. The ink was at places almost unreadable it was that old, and in other places were drops of something red, Harry hoped dearly that it wasn't blood. It read:

* * *

_To whomever this may concern:  
It is the Gregorian year 866, winter is coming and the Vikings are falling in. We of the Peverells have sworn our allegiance to the English king, but even we wizards are not strong enough to fight back the invading forces, for they have their own wizardry too. The Viking wizards are not only skilled with magic, but they also know to wield swords. However not this is their most deadly ability, no by far not. I myself take pride in having learnt to speak to all breeds of birds, even the aggressive magical ones, but they have monsters we know nothing of. Or knew nothing of. The birds call those beasts "Sky freezer and Heart stopper" or something along the lines, but we humans still have no name for them. They make the strongest of our men falter in his step and their breath sucks any go-_

Then there were several lines Harry could not read, because the ink was that blurred, but something akin to fear crawled underneath his skin. Orion felt this and whined softly and put his warm snout on Harry's lap. Harry read on:

_The beasts are tall and always hooded and wear nothing but black. No one who has seen their face can tell how they looked like, for whoever has looked at their face loses their ability to talk. They are reduced to a state that is not dead, but death would be preferable.  
Here I have to tell, that just the other day I was sneaking to the Viking stronghold under an invisibility charm and asked the birds to tell me what the Viking leader talked about. What the birds told me has made me even more fearful. They have someone that can talk to those beasts, for no one except this one person can control these beasts and the other Vikings fear those things, too, and this person is very loyal to the Vikings. Where they have those beasts the birds could not tell and I could not feel the beasts. The Vikings must be keeping them away somehow. After this I wanted to go back and report my findings, but when I was in a wood, there was a young girl, who gave me something.  
She was a Viking girl, for only they have that unruly air about them, but she had also something that made me shudder and I was ready to flee at any moment. Even though she could not see me she looked right at me with the most piercing green eyes I have ever seen. She said something I could not understand, but sounded like the hissing of a snake, and held a glass orb in front of her. Her eyes seemed to plead that I take it from her and so I did. In that glass orb swirled white mist and I was inclined to just throw it away, as it looked like any other crystal orb used for divination. However, every time I tried to get rid of it, the orb came back to me. I even tried to shatter it by any means I knew of. Nothing could do any harm to it and I still do not know what it is. I have made it an heirloom of my family, until someone can use it or knows what it is.  
Atherol Peverell_

Then there was some empty space and further down was in a new handwriting something added:

_We of the Potter family know now what this orb is that has been given to our family in ancestral times. We write the year 1672 AD and the third war against the Dutch has just begun. The Ministry of Magic has said to the king, that some wizards would go and fight, but this is not our point.  
This orb is a prophecy made by this woman our ancestor Atherol talked about. The reason he had not been able to destroy it, is because only the one who is made a prophecy about can open it and listen, such was the magic of olden days. So far no one has been able to listen to it, so we know that the event has not come to pass yet, for the orb will destroy itself if the person it is about dies. We have given the orb to the Department of Mysteries and ask of any heir of ours to go and look if the prophecy was made about them. We are fairly sure it is an heir of our family, for seers have the uncanny ability to give their prophecies to people who are somehow or another connected to the prophecy's content. We do not know in what language the prophecy was made in so it is entirely possible that the person may not understand it. From what we gather of the writings of Atherol it may be in Parseltongue. We dearly hope that is not the case, for the Potter family has no known speakers of this language in its ancestry.  
Cole and Daisey Potter_

* * *

Harry absentmindedly was stroking Orion's fur. There was a prophecy about someone in the Potter line, who might speak Parseltongue and seemingly no one was affected by it. He briefly wondered what happened to the Viking girl his ancestor had written about. She had had green eyes…

"I think we may go back, Orion. Let's walk around, I have done enough thinking today," Harry said tiredly and stood up. He packed the parchments together and slung the bag over his shoulders and left. His head swirled with all the information he had read in the past hours.

He wandered aimlessly around and stopped here and there to look at the goods that were sold. There were so many things he had never seen before, such as a strapless bag that only followed its owner or a book that shifted sizes, but always had the same content, notebooks that made the ink disappear and reappear when needed, Harry shuddered at the memory of Tom Riddle and his notebook… all too soon it was evening and Harry decided to eat at the Leaky Cauldron.

He put the documents in his room and noticed that Hedwig was away, probably hunting. He and Orion went downstairs. Once Harry had a table somewhere in an inconspicuous corner and had ordered his supper, he stopped Tom again.

"Do you have anything I can give to Orion?" Harry asked and gestured to the dog lying at his feet.

Tom took a look. "I can search something for the poor thing. He seems seriously underfed… poor beast…"

He went away and when Harry's food arrived Tom also had a second bowl in his hands. It was, concluding from the look of it, cooked rice and some cooked pieces of meat. Harry thanked the man and so did Orion's eyes as the landlord put the bowl in front of him. Harry ate in relative silence, at least no one came to bother him and Orion was happily eating his food. Suddenly something came to Harry's mind.

"_I am a Parselmouth!" _he thought and shuddered. "_Please, no… my life is difficult enough…"_

He made a mental note to go to the Department of Mysteries to ask for this prophecy, maybe someone had listened to it and it wasn't marked in the parchment. That had to be the case. It just simply couldn't be him, he was the bloody "Boy-Who-Lived", the damned Saviour of the wizarding world; he just had no time or energy to be involved in some more than thousand year old prophecy. Orion looked worriedly at him and seemed to ask Harry with his eyes if he was okay. Harry shook his head and mouthed 'later, upstairs' and was surprised to see the dog nod.

He paid for the supper and went upstairs. Hedwig was back and flew onto his shoulder and nibbled lovingly his ear and hooted softly, she seemed to feel his downcast mood. Harry petted her plumage and sank on his bed. He ran his hand through his hair and over his face and sighed heavily. Orion sat patiently in front of him and waited for Harry to say something. Again Harry was struck by how intelligent the dog's eyes looked at him, it had to be some magical breed…

"I just found out I am quite rich, well not quite, but impossibly rich. So rich that I can't even picture how much money I have… and that there is a possibility of a thousand year old prophecy to have been made about me. I don't want to… I know I sound like a little child, but you see, everyone expects me to be something and I seriously have no idea what they expect… some awesome superhero who can rid the world of all evil?, after all I defeated Voldemort when I was just a toddler, what by the way I can't remember how that happened," Harry ranted. It felt good to get rid of this, he felt no need to stop. The dam that held those emotions was breaking. He needed to tell this to somebody and the dog couldn't tell anyone else, so Harry was safe from rumours. "I can't even remember my parents, you know, I saw them in the mirror Erised in my first year and Hagrid made me an album, but you know… it isn't the same… I wish someone could tell me about their school days, how they met, how they fell in love and about my first year…" By now he felt tears burn behind his eyes.  
"I wished to have a normal childhood, normal schooldays… it wouldn't have mattered if I wasn't a wizard, as long as I had a family… the Weasleys are something like a family to me, but sometimes it is a bit too much to so blatantly see what I don't have. Maybe I could have had younger siblings… but no, that psychopath of a wizard just had to go and kill my parents… and it seems that my godfather was one of his followers… somehow I don't trust that too much…  
"But what I would want most is for people to see that I'm not that great, just thirteen years old and on my way to my third year in Hogwarts. I didn't know of magic until I was eleven, but every wizard knew my name… sometimes I wonder if fate just hates me or likes to see people struggle." Now he felt the tears on his cheeks, he didn't bother to wipe them away. Orion stood up and jumped on the bed, leaning on him and offering his doggish comfort. "Ever heard of the philosopher's stone? That's one thing Voldemort wanted to steal, I prevented it in first year…"

Orion barked angrily, that made Harry come out of the rant. He looked at the dog and patted its head. The black dog still didn't look pleased and Harry had the distinctive feeling Orion was huffing. Then the dog curled around him, with its head in Harry's lap.

"Where did I stop? Ah, the stone. Yep, Voldemort isn't as dead as I'd like him to be. Last year I saw a memory image of Tom Riddle, Voldemort's real name, and destroyed it after I had killed the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets at Hogwarts. Now, that was a close call, hadn't Fawkes saved me with his tears I wonder if I had survived…? I wonder what's up for me this year… sorry, Orion that you have to listen to my ranting.  
"I think I'll go to the ministry tomorrow and ask for the prophecy. I still hope it wasn't about me, but some Potter, who lived before me. Why do I have the feeling that it won't be?" Harry laughed bitterly.

He stood up and made himself ready for bed. He flopped into it and dreamt of houses surrounded by lovely gardens, white mist and talking foxgloves _and something, that was cruel and cold, but made him feel comfortable and safe_.

* * *

_This time he immediately knew it was just a dream. He felt again the dark's soft clothing flutter and felt again the cold breath. It did not make him shudder this time, he felt calm and trusted the dark to not let him fall into the bottomless pit underneath. He wondered what the cave was and if it was a part of his mind. It was so gloomy and hopeless; he hoped for nothing to ever crawl up from there. He heard the dark around him breath rhythmically. Was it talking to him? He couldn't understand anything and the more he tried, the less he heard._

_He gave up trying to understand, he was sure that the dark was soothing him, he could feel creeping fear so near to him it was suffocating. It was only the dark that prevented him from panicking. The dark held him in its cold presence and he felt safe. He let himself fall so that the dark was the only thing holding him. It still whispered, but this time he just relished in its being simply there. Images flashed, he could not tell what he saw, but was sure he knew of them somehow. It was until one image stayed longer. It was a being, he could immediately tell, because only living things move on their own will. It was incredibly tall and dark. The image was fading, but he could still catch a glimpse on its form. It had wings made of something shiny. The dark around him was trembling. He whispered something to the dark and immediately it stopped trembling and carried him on to wherever it was going. Then he felt again the dream's end and this time the dark did not push him there. He smiled and told it he would go, but come again at another time._

"_Until then, mylord."_

_And then there was nothingness._

* * *

Thank you for reading it! I hope you liked it :)

Review answers:

**Kairan1979:** Oh, and he will, but not in the next chapters :) Professor Lupin is in for several surprises :D Thank you for the review!

**Man of Constant Sorrow:** Glad you liked it! I didn't mean to say I don't like long reviews, I was simply surprised to see how long it was! :D Detailed reviews are more informative than others and it's easier to see as an author what one can do better if there is criticism (not that I don't like short reviews, I love all kind of reviews) Well, about the dog problem, Harry never had any pets apart from Hedwig and she's very easy to handle. Plus, Orion's a magic dog :D or something, but yes, as a dog owner myself it is quite unthoughtful. :) Wait and see what powers Harry has gotten unknowingly.  
Haah, yes, I see your hatred to Ron and Ginny. Well, I like them and I'm not going to argue :) I hope this story will qualify as good Ron and Ginny when they finally have their appearance. :)

**Penny is wise: **Glad you liked it and thank you for the review!

**amoghtalwar: **Glad you liked the story so far :) And no, I won't do a "Harry joins Voldy because of whatever reason" because I simply can't see Harry turn to the Dark side (or I'm simply unable to write it) after all that guy killed his parents and I won't let him use Dark Arts... so it is more of a grey Harry story. Sorry if it is confusing :) harmony? well, I haven't thought about parings yet, because they are still very young, so honestly, I have no idea about the pairing. :)

**Brittknee42: **Thank you for the review! And I hope you liked how it continued :)

Until next time  
RedMamba


	4. The Department of Mysteries

Hello there!

Thank you so much for reading the story, favoriting it, following it and reviewing it! I love all of you readers! :D

(review answers at the end, as before) :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and I don't make any money off of it.

* * *

The next morning Harry awoke earlier than Orion, who still slept soundly on the rug next to Harry's bed; he must have left Harry's bed sometime in the night. Harry hadn't bothered to change into his nightwear, he had only thrown his shoes and his robe off and had slept in his clothes. Silently, so as not to wake the dog, Harry padded over to the bathroom and after washing dressed himself for a new day. When he stepped outside Orion was up and yawning. The dog looked at Harry, then over to the door. Harry understood that the dog urged him to go out. He didn't feel hungry at all he was so nervous. Today he wanted to go to the Department of Mysteries, although he had little idea what that was; and taking Orion with him would provide a walk for the black mutt, Harry deemed. He guessed he could ask in the ministry if he could listen to the prophecy and if nothing helped, he could use his title as Boy-Who-Lived and that would probably get him anywhere he wanted. The only problem he was facing, was the fact that he didn't know where the Ministry of Magic was. He'd ask Tom he decided and went downstairs, Orion following him.

"Good morning, Tom," he greeted. "Do you know how I get to the ministry?"

Tom looked at him questioningly, but then told him where the visitor's entrance was. Some streets down in Whitehall and the entrance was a telephone booth. Harry thanked him and left through the door leading to the Muggle part of London. He walked some streets down and suddenly felt completely lost. He had no idea if he had to go right or left now… he had only been in London for shopping in Diagon Alley and had never thought he'd need to go to the banking square.

"Where do I go now?" he said more to himself than to anyone else.

Orion yapped and went a bit ahead. When Harry didn't follow, the dog turned around and looked at him. Orion definitely said 'follow me.' And so Harry did. They walked past some buildings that Tom had described and down several alleys Harry would never ever remember, the dog was probably using shortcuts. Until they stopped before a telephone booth Harry identified as the entrance. He ruffled the mutt's fur and thanked him, then went over to the booth. Not much later he found himself in the atrium of the Ministry of Magic, magical badge with name and purpose latched onto his robe and everything.

The watchwizard stopped Harry and proceeded to register Harry's wand, not noticing who was standing in front of him the wizard was that bored. Only after the procedure he saw Harry clearly and wanted to stop him and probably talk to him, but Harry politely smiled and left the wizard. He had had the time to read where he had to go to off an information board left to the watchwizard's station. He now knew where he should ask if he wanted to see the prophecy. He went to a wizard dressed in navy blue, who sat alone at a desk in a corner of the atrium. On the wizard's robe was a silver sign of infinity, which floated above the "M" of the ministry. If one looked at it more closely, you could have seen the infinity sign be a cluster of different magical things, such as unicorn horns, herbs, even a cauldron; everything was so small you almost needed to know what to look for.

"Good morning," Harry greeted the man, who was quite absent. Immediately the man's head turned to face Harry.

The man's face was under his hood and Harry could only see his prominent chin. The guy had a heavy build and while he was sitting he was taller than Harry was standing. To be on this man's wrong side would not be enjoyable.

"What can I do for you, Mr Potter?" he had read the name badge and the reason Harry visited. He didn't seem to be fazed at all by the Boy-Who-Lived. Harry almost took a liking to this department of the ministry.

"I'd like to see if a prophecy was made about me around a thousand years ago. I read in a paper of my ancestors that as an heir to the Potter line I could maybe see it. It was given to the ministry in the seventeenth century."

The unspeakable nodded. "Yes, I know which prophecy you mean. One that was a family heirloom and now stands in our department. Please, follow me."

He stood up and left for the lifts, Harry had trouble keeping up with the tall man: he had legs at least twice as long as Harry's. They reached the bronze bars and when a lift stopped the man stepped in, Harry in tow. They got a few strange looks from ministry officials, who recognized Harry and now were quite surprised to see him in the company of an unspeakable. Immediately they were whispering, but Harry ignored them as well as he could.

The voice finally called out their destination, level nine, and the man left without looking if Harry followed. They went down a dark, windowless corridor. The man in front of Harry became almost invisible in his blue robes combined with how the torches on the walls were burning eerily blue. The corridor went along and along, never turning and there were no doors neither to the left nor to the right, except for right at the beginning, when a staircase had led to level ten. Finally the man stopped and Harry was just aware enough to not bump into him. He couldn't see past the unspeakable, but then the man turned to the side. Harry saw a plain black door with black handles and no inscription anywhere. He waited.

"This is the entrance to where you want to go, Mr Potter. Do not tell anyone whatever you may see inside," the wizard told him and left just as the door opened.

* * *

There stood another unspeakable, this one's robes were a lighter blue, but had also pulled his hood over his head. The person gestured for Harry to follow and they stepped through the door. Harry found himself in a circular room full of doors. The man went straight for one and opened it, he looked at Harry and the boy followed him through. Then they were in a hall with racks and racks full with glowing white orbs of different sizes. Harry neither saw the far end nor the roof of the place. The man walked to the left and Harry followed, still impressed by where he was and what he was seeing. This was something of the size of a cathedral, he thought while he was following the unspeakable. They had been walking for quite the time and Harry slowly wanted to ask if it was far yet, he could easily imagine to walk around here for weeks, when the man abruptly stopped.

There was one single orb on this black shelf. It was an older shelf than the others they had passed, it was made of dark wood, while the others were made of metal. Over the orb was a golden tag and into it was carved a year and two words: _1672, family heirloom._

The unspeakable turned to him and Harry thought to see something shimmering slither away from his face. Then the man talked: "The orb can only be touched without risk by heirs of the line it was given to. Only the concerning one can lift it off the shelf."

The man's voice gave Harry goose bumps and suddenly he wasn't entirely sure if the person was male or female. Tentatively Harry reached out to the glowing orb, discarding all other thoughts. He closed his hand around it and suddenly there was a feeling of dread washing over him, as if someone was scanning his mind, forcing every thought out of every last corner of his mind. _Piercing green eyes, darkness, fear, a green light, blood, and wings. _The images flashed behind his eyes just slow enough to know what it was.

He fought the urge to just shatter the orb and swallowed. If he now could take it off the shelf, he was the one the prophecy was made of. He wasn't sure if he wanted this, but now, holding the orb in his hand, he also wasn't sure if he wanted the prophecy to not be about him. He drew a breath and focused on the orb. Slowly he tried to lift it, feeling the weight of the orb pull his arm down, courtesy of the gravitation. It made a soft _plop_ when it left the shelf, almost as if it had been sticking to it. Unbelievingly Harry held the white orb; the mist within was not moving any different to before. It was shockingly unspectacular.

"Follow me," the unspeakable said curtly. The shimmering things then came back to his face.

The man guided Harry to a door Harry didn't see and would have walked past if the unspeakable hadn't pointed it out. The door opened and Harry went inside, the unspeakable didn't follow. The room was small, only one torch was enough to illuminate it. The walls were black, but reflected the white light in a strange bluish grey. There was only a table in the middle of the room and a single, simple wooden chair in front of it. Harry was at a loss. What should he do now? Sit down and destroy the orb? Highly unlikely.

He sat down anyways and examined the glass globe. It was glowing from within and strangely warm, a bit warmer than Harry's hand. Whenever a white swirl touched the boundary that was glass the spot got a bit cooler, as if winter wind would blow. The orb itself was perfectly circular, so perfectly round that it appeared otherworldly. Now, as he was inspecting it, Harry thought it might not be made of glass, but something almost liquid similar to what his invisibility cloak was made of. It was indeed a very strange thing.

"So, what do I do with you?" Harry asked it. He might as well try to get it to give him instructions for all he knew.

The funny thing was, the orb reacted. In its midst the white swirls coiled up and formed a snakehead. It swung back and forth, always almost touching both opposite sides of the orb, it was like a pendulum. Watching the snakehead move was hypnotizing. Harry looked at it, eyebrows raised.

"Tell me your secrets, seeing-orb," Harry said to it in Parseltongue. Logical, it might be in that language and he was letting it know that he understood.

The feeling of something in his hands was gradually becoming less and less. It felt as if the orb would disappear, but looking at it, it didn't change at all. Harry was distressed by now and frantically searching his mind for any possibility to stop whatever was happening. Then the weight completely disappeared, but Harry still held the orb. It was strange, seeing yourself hold something but not feeling it. The white mist rose out, floating through its container unhindered. The figure of a woman started to form. Even in its whiteness the figure had amazingly expressive eyes and had Harry not known the woman dead, he would have believed her to speak to him directly through some kind of magical link.

* * *

"The king of the foulest he shall be, but he shall not be a foul one himself, but rather have a heart purer than freshly fallen snow. He will fear those he commands more than anyone, because he can see what others do not see, feel what others do not feel. No memories of his royalty he will have and he will have forgotten how to wield his power. But the power to command the foul he will learn unknowingly from a child that has been cursed. The one he trusts may not be the right one, but changes bring differences and even the oldest can change their ways, but not always do. And he will find one he can trust unconditionally in a form he had not awaited. And heirs to great houses he will have as allies and one heir as an enemy. The first vow is always the disguised one and made from feelings running deeper than the soul itself. If the king has not learnt to wield his power when the last vow is spoken by the cursed child, he will lose something he wants not lose. A time of darkness, deeper and more fearful… and the darkest king with the purest heart, born when a flower has been potted twice."

* * *

The mist sunk back into the orb. Harry again felt the weight of the sphere, but paid it no mind. He sat there, contemplating. What exactly did he know now more than before? Actually he couldn't tell and that confused him. He had thought that a prophecy would be understandable and tell him some things. But no, this one was talking about "dark kings" and "cursed children" and flowers potted twice. Strangely enough Harry could repeat the prophecy in his mind almost word by word, even though it had been made in Parseltongue, maybe he could remember it so clearly _because_ it was the language of the snakes. His thoughts became more and more unintelligible until Harry could absolutely not concentrate anymore. He needed to get out of here.

Harry stretched in the chair and heard his spine crack. He got up and went out of the room. Still standing in front of it was the unspeakable, who then gestured for Harry to follow. They went back to where the prophecy had been kept for the last three hundred years. The shimmering things on the wizard's face moved again.

"You can leave it here, or take it with you," the unspeakable said and the glow returned.

Not needing to decide now Harry put the orb back into the small slot it had been in before. Harry thought to hear the soft _plop _when it locked in place. The only difference was the now unmoving mist within the orb and its almost invisible luminescence. It seemed to be almost swallowed up by the dark rack it was now standing on. Harry felt the need to say good bye to it.

"You aren't allowed to talk about anything that you hear inside here, right?" he asked the unspeakable, but instead of answering, the blue-clad wizard simply nodded.

"I don't know if I will ever listen to you again, but stay here. Thank you for choosing me," Harry told the orb, even though he wasn't entirely sure why he was thanking it, and saw from the corner of his eye the unspeakable twitch. Parseltongue made even those people uncomfortable.

"This was all I wanted to do here. Please, can you show me the way out?" Harry said. Again the unspeakable nodded and turned to lead the way out.

Harry had the feeling they were walking a different way back than what they had used to get there. He then understood the reason, after all this was, from what he had heard of the murmurs in the lift, the most secret part of the ministry and not even Fudge had total control over it. When they were in the circular room he wondered where to the doors leaded. He was on the verge of just opening one randomly when they stopped in the middle of the room. Behind them the door leading to the Cathedral of Prophecies closed and suddenly all the doors turned round and round. How Harry would find back he didn't know yet, but was quite sure that even the unspeakables weren't allowed to keep him. Confirming his guess one of the doors opened and Harry could have sworn this was the one he had just come out, but instead he saw the other unspeakable, the one who had brought him here. Wordlessly the other one disappeared through another door and left Harry with the navy blue unspeakable.

"Please follow me, I will lead you back up. Remember that you are not allowed to talk about what you saw in here, but you are allowed to talk about the prophecy; although many choose not to," the man said.

Harry followed him back through the long corridor to the lifts and as they went up more people came into the small space and Harry suddenly believed to feel some people being afraid, of what he could not tell, but there was fear around him. He shrugged it off, maybe that was an after-effect of being in the Department of Mysteries. They stopped at the atrium and all the wizards and witches spilled out from the lift. The unspeakable nodded his farewell to Harry and left to his place.

* * *

After searching a bit Harry found the way out nearest to the visitor's entrance. He stumbled ungracefully out into the open and was pleasantly surprised to see a very familiar face. Opposite of where he had just come out stood none other than the real Neville Longbottom. Behind him was, as it seemed, his grandma, Lady Augusta Longbottom. Both looked surprised at him.

"Hey, Neville, Mrs Longbottom," Harry greeted.

It was actually Mrs Longbottom, who recovered from the first shock. "Hello, Mr Potter, pleased to meet you."

Harry felt uncomfortable to be addressed as 'Mr Potter' by one of his friend's relatives. He smiled at Mrs Longbottom and told her to call him Harry. She reciprocated his smile and gave the required answer for someone in her position, the repetition of her first greeting, only changing the addressing to 'Harry'.

"What are you doing in London?" Neville asked Harry then.

"I'm staying here for the rest of the holidays, at the Leaky Cauldron. Hey! You could some time come to Diagon Alley with me, I haven't got any company!" Harry told him. He saw Neville's mood brighten up and didn't wait long for the positive answer.

"I'm sorry to interrupt here, but we'll need to go, Neville. You can surely owl us, right Harry?" Lady Longbottom said. Harry told her he would surely and bid them a good day. He realised now that Neville had also worn an heir ring on his left pointer. Harry was sure that Neville was being introduced to future responsibilities of a pureblood lord. He didn't envy him at all, his grandmother had seemed rather stern.

Looking around Harry decided to go back to Diagon Alley, but he changed his mind when he saw Orion bouncing to him. The dog seemed very pleased with itself and was radiating happiness. Harry ruffled the dog's fur for quite a time and several Muggles, who passed by, gave them amused glances. Having a dog surely made happier.

"Should we go and walk around for a bit, Orion?" Harry asked. He let himself be led by the big black dog and enjoyed the August noon. It wasn't too hot, but not cold yet. It was surprisingly nice.

They walked through half the city and Orion showed Harry some places where wizards met outside Diagon Alley. Harry was amazed at how normal some of these wizards looked, most were even wearing matching Muggle clothes and from the looks of it even talking to Muggles. Somehow Harry and Orion ended up in front of a café called "Le Griffon d'Or", a very Muggle place, but concluding from the name a spot where wizards also met. Harry went inside and, as it wasn't forbidden, Orion followed him.

The café was held in neutral colours, against what Harry had expected coming from the name. It was a very homely place, there seemed to be some things from the magical world and others from the Muggle world. A waitress then saw Harry standing around and probably looking like a fish and guided him to a free table.

"Welcome to the golden griffin, what would you like?" she asked nicely and smiled.

Harry looked at the card and decided it was time for lunch. "I'd like to have the baked potatoes with the roast beef and peas and," here Harry was quite surprised. "A goblet of pumpkin juice if that is possible. Oh, and is it possible to have something for Orion here? I haven't fed him today…"

The waitress smiled politely as she said it would be okay to feed his dog, they had pets in here all the time and were used to them. She then left and Orion softly whined next to Harry. Concerned he turned to look at the dog, only to see it look at him extremely thankful and something that Harry unconsciously identified as regret, but as it was a dog he understood it as something sad. He absolutely didn't get Orion.

"It's okay, Orion, really. You are at the moment my only companion and you are too thin," Harry said trying to sound stern. He petted the dog's head.

When the waitress arrived she had on her tablet Harry's pumpkin juice and was balancing in her other hand a water bowl for Orion. She put the bowl on the ground without spilling anything and then placed Harry's goblet on his table. Somehow Harry respected this woman, seriously, the water bowl was filled to the brim and she was wearing heels. After some minutes she returned with the food. Orion got a mixed dish of what looked like pieces of meat cut off the bone and vegetables and rice.

Again they ate in relative silence, only once a little girl asked if she could pet Orion, what Harry allowed after seeing the dog's expression. He had listened to some snippets of conversations around him and arrived at the conclusion that this was a place where Muggle parents of magical children could talk to magical parents and vice versa. It was a really peaceful place. He wondered why he had never heard of a place like this.

The waitress came to take their plates and Harry stopped her.

"Excuse me, but I couldn't help but notice that there are Muggles and wizards here. I was wondering how you could keep those Muggles from entering this place who don't know about magic," he asked her.

She smiled and answered: "There are some charms that make ordinary Muggles, those without knowledge of this world, change their decision to enter this shop. Usually parents of Muggleborn witches and wizards have some kind of residuary magic clinging to them from their children. That tiny bit of magic is enough to be able to enter." Harry nodded his understanding and let the waitress do her job.

When she came back Harry paid with wizarding money, here one could pay with both kinds of money, and left the café. The relaxed atmosphere from there clung to Harry and he saw the world just a little bit brighter and more hopeful. It was as if there was no need to be concerned. He thanked Orion for showing him this place and promised himself to bring his friends here one time, the Muggle world after all wasn't that different.

_"And he will find one he can trust unconditionally in a form he had not awaited," _suddenly rang in Harry's mind. He was surprised at how his thoughts seemed to have a will of themselves, but then remembered the eyes of that woman and something soft flutter around him. Maybe this was old magic that wanted him to do something. He mulled over the wording and as suddenly as he had heard the sentence he found out that 'a form he had not awaited' could be everything. He guessed the prophecy meant Orion. He stopped and the dog looked at him. It struck Harry again how much intelligence he saw in the dog's grey eyes.

"Orion," he saw the dog shudder. Harry had sounded serious. "We're going back and then I'll tell you something and you'll tell me something in return, understood?"

Orion had no other choice but to nod and follow Harry to the Leaky Cauldron, although Harry noticed that Orion was dawdling. This would prove to be interesting, although Harry didn't know how very right he was with that assumption.

* * *

Thank you for reading! I hope you liked the chapter :) it was awful to write, I changed it at least seven times and now am almost satisfied (hah, okay, I like it) and hope it's okay as it is :) Well, as I let you hanging again, next chapter is going to be longer and more explanatory... with a bit of action :D

A/N: I'd like to hear your assumptions of what the prophecy said! Just to know if it was too obvious, or horrible... it was hard to write :D

Review answers:

**Kairan1979, christinaemerald, ladywatertiger, Yana5: **Glad you all liked it! :D

**amoghtalwar: **Well, divination, I haven't fully decided yet. It was a waste of time, absolutely... I'm giving arguments against it. Probaby he'll change. :D Haha, I'm an idiot, aren't I? Yeah, pairing... well, at least I'm sure it won't be a "we come together and are soul-mates" thing. When, you'll see. About Dumbledore and McGonagall, and other characters: Well, wait and see! :D No problem, I still liked the very fact you reviewed! And it's always nice to hear what your readers think :D

**redstickbonbon: **Glad you liked it! Sirius and Harry bonding fics are also my favourites :) Your question: I honestly didn't think about such a thing... I am clueless when it comes to such things, but I would say they are copies (though I never mentioned it in any chapters), since the originals would be, as you pointed out, irreplacable.

**Penny is wise:** Glad you liked it! Yep, absolutely perfect moment. As you may correctly guess, that's next chapter!


	5. The Dog Changes and A House-elf

Hello my dear readers!

Sorry it took so long, but I was on vacation and didn't have internet-access... so it's a bit tardy :) The chapter is the longest yet and I hope you like it!  
(Review answers at the end ^^)

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, neither do I make any money off of this.

* * *

They had arrived at the Leaky Cauldron and now sat in Harry's room; Harry on his bed, looking pointedly at the unusually still dog in front of him, and Orion staring with something akin to worry at Harry. They had sat there for almost ten minutes, neither moving. Even Hedwig felt the tension around them and sat attentively on her perch. The air was thick.

"So, then," Harry started, finally breaking the heavy silence. "As you know, Orion, today I went to the ministry and listened to a prophecy that was made a thousand years ago. Since I could listen to it, it really was about me, but there was a part in it that makes me wonder if it hadn't been about you."

Here the dog whimpered, stood up and began pacing around, his gaze never leaving Harry. He was deciding what to do, Harry thought. He had been right, this was no ordinary dog, and not even a magical dog, Harry guessed.

"Stop pacing around and let me finish, Orion," Harry said nicely. The dog sat again, ready to make a run for it at a moment's notice. "It said I would meet somebody I could trust unconditionally in a form I would not await. I think that this person is you, Orion. After all I do trust you and you look like a dog, even though you may not be one. That would be a form I had not awaited anyone to take on… I think."

Harry had his eyebrows raised and looked at the now motionless dog, he was quite sure Orion didn't even breathe. Then Orion turned his head to Harry and looked at him heart-wrenchingly. He didn't want to spill whatever secret he was holding, or he was afraid of Harry's reaction. Harry guessed it was the second and felt he had to comfort the dog.

"Whatever secret you don't want to tell me I will listen to it to the end, I though want you to tell me. I told you things I haven't told anyone else, too. Please, Orion, trust me," Harry said. The dog then steeled itself. Now Harry finally noticed how very human its behaviours were. Orion looked at him, pleading him to be quiet no matter what happened. Harry nodded.

Then Orion stood up, but instead of just rising to his four feet, his hind legs elongated and the tail started to disappear. The front legs changed drastically, shoulders dislocated and relocated, the back shrunk and changed shape. After only five seconds in front of Harry stood a man the boy recognized. Defeated the man sat on the floor.

"Sirius Black," Harry whispered. There, in all his living glory, sat the Azkaban escapee and looked absolutely miserable.

"Well, yes. Hi, Harry, I guess," Sirius said unsurely and smiled cautiously up at his godson. It was truly different to be in Harry's presence as a human rather than a dog, although he had pictured this reunion a bit differently.

"Why shouldn't I alert someone of you being here, Black?" Harry said. After all this man was said to be a loyal follower of Voldemort, that there was a prophecy Harry _thought _could be about him didn't make him discard his rational thoughts completely.

"Because I did nothing of what they accused me of. I was never on his side, I'd rather died!" Sirius exclaimed looking haunted, but Harry saw truth in his grey eyes.

Harry looked confused. "What had they accused you of then?"

Sirius was uncomfortable, Harry hadn't been told anything it seemed. He gulped. "They thought I had betrayed James and Lily to Voldemort, they thought I was their secret keeper. I as much as killed them, though."

"How?" Harry asked and he must have looked shocked, angry and disappointed, because Sirius looked like a beaten dog.

"The secret keeper in this case was the only one who could tell where you and your parents were hiding. I had been the first choice, because James and I were good friends, but I objected and said it would be too obvious and proposed another friend of ours to be the secret keeper, someone no one would suspect: Peter Pettigrew." Sirius' eyes became murderous and Harry suddenly saw a man very capable of murder.

"He was Voldemort's spy and betrayed James and Lily to him. I came too late and only to find the house ruined and their… their" he stopped, not able to continue. There was a sadness around him that made Harry want to comfort him.

"And then when I had finally found the tiny you Hagrid came, and in my stupidity I gave you to him and lent him my motorbike. I chased Peter, I wanted revenge for killing the only family I had ever had… after I had cornered him he framed me and disappeared. Since only your parents, Peter and I knew who the secret keeper was it truly looked as if I had been Voldemort's spy. I was put in Azkaban. At that time I was so desperate that the whole situation seemed ridiculous… that's also from where the rumours came I was crazy before I had been in Azkaban." A strange, pained half-smile marred his face.

Harry sat there and schooled his face to stay neutral. He could tell that Sirius Black was telling the truth, he could practically feel the guilt rolling off of Sirius about telling his parents whom to choose as secret keeper. However, Harry still had a question that needed answering if he was going to believe his godfather; Harry was though wondering if the man was crazy enough to believe what he told without it being true.

"Hagrid was in Azkaban last year and he said it's impossible to break out, and that one would turn crazy in there after not too long. You don't seem that mad to me…" well, it was a try, albeit a weak one.

Black smiled and for a brief moment the haunted look disappeared. "Thank you for that, Harry. I didn't get mad, because I was innocent and that kept me going, the guards couldn't use this to make me crazy. Also, I don't know if you knew, but I'm your godfather and I at least wanted to see you once more, so I simply couldn't get mad, could I?" Sirius looked at Harry. Then he continued.

"Then this summer Fudge came and I got a newspaper from him," now killing intent rolled off of Sirius, even more than before. "And I saw Peter in it. He was with a wizard family and some of their children go with you to school, I just couldn't let him be there and wait for the moment to harm you! There was nothing else I could do than break out, was there?"

Harry was overwhelmed, aside from being confused. He thought he was taking this rationally, because he really had no other choice, but then this man started speaking and the way Sirius looked at Harry was speaking bonds. Never before in his life had anyone told him that he was precious enough to keep on going in a hellish place or actually fleeing from a place rumoured to be inescapable, just to see if he was safe. That someone kept going on just to see him once more. Sirius carried love for Harry within him and it showed in the clearness his eyes had kept over the years he had been imprisoned. Harry now knew with certainty that Sirius Black was the one the prophecy had told him about. The man was too scarred to lie to Harry about such things and the hurt that seemed to press Sirius down when he had talked about that Halloween was too real to be faked. Suddenly a deep thankfulness sprouted in Harry.

"I know that you're my godfather. Dad and mum wrote so in their Last Will," Harry said, his voice was think, there was definitely a lump in his throat. "They said should they die that you were to take me in then."

Sirius, being the man for deeds rather than words, picked himself up from the floor and went over to his godson, who looked a bit spooked at him. Moving slowly, because Sirius still wasn't sure if Harry trusted him enough, he wrapped his godson in his arms. It felt good having Harry here, living, breathing and whole. He sometimes still felt the weight of Harry when he had been a baby in his arms mere days after his birth and he remembered that day as the one when something within him shifted and he had been appointed Harry's godfather. It made him so incredibly proud to be Harry's godfather.

"I'm sorry, Harry. I'm so terribly sorry that I wasn't there for you. I'm sorry that I went after that bastard and didn't stick with you," Sirius murmured. He vowed to himself that he would be there for Harry from now on.

Harry softly shook his head. From somewhere there came a feeling of security, his unconsciousness seemed to remember the person holding him as someone it trusted. Harry returned the hug and felt himself relax greatly. Then his mind jumped into overdrive, he felt that he needed Sirius as the one closest to family he had left. Somehow there had to be a possibility to clear Sirius of all charges and he would do everything to get the man declared innocent.

"Is there a way to prove your innocence, Sirius?" Harry asked when his godfather had let go of him and now sat next to him on the bed, more at ease than before. "You were put in Azkaban innocent and sat there for twelve years, there has to be a way to clear your name!"

Sirius looked admiringly at him, but then the man shook his head. "Only if Pettigrew is found and apprehended by a ministry official and fed Veritaserum, but I doubt that he will let himself be captured by anyone."

"What wizard family has taken him in then? You said something like that… maybe that's a better starting point then…" Harry asked.

Sirius shook his head again. "You shouldn't burden yourself with things like that, Harry. I'll find a way to get him, you go and have fun for once in a school year."

Sirius' comment made Harry remember that he had told him everything about his first two years at Hogwarts and some more. It was just as the prophecy said, Harry didn't need to worry if this somehow leaked to the press, and Sirius wouldn't tell anyone nor judge him. Also there seemed to be a silent agreement between him and Sirius that neither would mention Harry's breakdown. He smiled at his godfather.

"Ah, yeah, I just remembered something, Harry," Sirius said with an absent look. He turned around so he was facing Harry. "You wanted someone to tell you how your parents met and fell in love, right? I'll tell you, godfather's duty. Though I'll tell you also some stories about your father… It seems no one has bothered with it."

Harry was sure his eyes were big as dinner plates and just nodded. He really wanted to hear such stories, he imagined parents to tell such things to their children and it interested him anyways, after all he didn't know anything about the lives of his parents. He leant against a bed post and watched his godfather search for where to start his story. Sirius' face lighted up when he found something and then he started to tell a smile playing at the corners of his mouth:

"Well, to know how your parents finally found each other we have to start right at the beginning. The first train ride to Hogwarts on the first of September long ago…" Sirius told about the first time Lily and James met in the train, about the sorting, about Lily and James hating each other, he even told Harry about Severus Snape being in their year and him being a good friend of Lily's. He arrived at their fifth year (well, he was telling more or less about the marauder times of the group of friends and that took time) when he suddenly looked up and saw that it was time for a late dinner. "And I'll tell you some more after you've eaten, Harry."

Harry needed a bit of time to process what Sirius just said and then nodded. "Wait a moment. You have to eat too…" Harry looked a bit embarrassed, Sirius understood and just laughed.

"Well, if you'd be so nice and feed poor Orion, I'll only be happy about it. Azkaban doesn't have the best kitchen out there," he said and smiled. Ten seconds later Harry saw again the big black dog he had named Orion.

They went downstairs and again ate at the same table as yesterday evening, Harry was again left alone. He ordered food for himself and Orion, Tom the landlord seemed to have taken a liking to the black mutt. Harry grinned inwardly when he saw the old wizard dote on Orion. He was sure that he once saw Sirius look at him with an expression that clearly said 'No one hears about this'.

He was enjoying his meal when he remembered that Ron and Hermione had said they would meet him a day before school started again. Suddenly Harry couldn't say which date today was and shook his head. These happenings had made him lose track of what was usually a ritual of his, namely crossing out the days in his calendar. He had missed his friends in the few weeks he had been at Privet Drive and was only happier that he could see them soon again. He went upstairs after paying, Sirius following him. As soon as they reached the room the dog changed back and stretched. It was still very strange to see Sirius Black in his room, Harry thought. He looked at the calendar he always kept for the summer holidays and saw that it still three weeks to when the Weasleys would arrive on the 31st of August.

"Good news?" Sirius asked him, while he settled on the floor, leaning against the door and looking at Harry. He looked much more relaxed, he still was pale and lightly shuddering, but now it was easier to guess how good he had looked before his imprisonment.

"I just remembered that my friends are coming here in three weeks. I can't wait to hear what it was like in the tombs of Egyptian kings from Ron! I bet there were spiders," Harry laughed, picturing how Ron looked when he saw a desert spider. Weren't they rumoured to be quite big?

He didn't notice Sirius' shock when he had said Egypt and was surprised when Sirius sounded panicked: "Egypt? Is your friend a Weasley?"

"Yes? Has this to do with Pettigrew?" Harry asked.

Sirius collected himself. "No, nothing. Can I use the shower?"

A bit thrown off the racks from the sudden change in topic Harry needed five seconds to answer positively. It definitely had to do with Pettigrew, Harry thought, Sirius' behaviour had been too suspicious for it not to be true. Then an idea came to him while he saw Sirius disappear into the bathroom. He could at least help his godfather as good as he could on this strange mission of his, couldn't he?

He decided to see if the title "Head of House" applied to minors. "Demele?" he called into the now empty room.

With a _crack _an obviously female house-elf appeared, she had clear greenish yellow eyes big as tennis balls and her ears were a bit more pointed than those Dobby had, but they were still very bat-like. Unlike Dobby she wore an impeccable uniform in the size of elves. The Potter family crest adorned the back of this black uniform with its silver design. It was a two piece, a skirt and a jacket. She also looked healthy and not in danger of taking some random object and try to punish herself with it, all attributes she didn't share with the only other house-elf Harry had seen.

"Master Potter calleds Demele?" the elf asked in her absolutely clear, high-pitched elfish voice.

At first too surprised to answer Harry collected himself quite fast. "Yes, I did… can you keep a secret?"

"Master Potter hasn't been schooleds in magical servants? Demele will look that master will," she mumbled more to herself, but loud enough that Harry heard it. "Yes, Demele will keep anything master wants her to keep secret to herself," she said seriously.

Then it wasn't a problem what Harry was going to propose shortly. "Then I'd like you to help Sirius if you can. He's currently on the run and looks," Harry listened to the shower still working before saying the next thing. "…worse for wear, actually. He can't though go out and just buy stuff, can you do that for me? And don't tell anyone where he is, okay?"

"Yes, Demele will not tell. Did Master Potter says Mister Black is looking bad? Demele has never seen Mister Black after Master James died… Demele will look that Mister Black will looks the lord he is," she said with an air that didn't leave any room for arguments.

The elf had just made this statement when the water stopped splashing in the next room. It took Sirius maybe seven minutes to appear again. The look he wore when seeing the Potter house-elf though was fantastic. He was absolutely flabbergasted. He didn't expect his godson to be able to call any of the elves much less that Harry would be willing to after what he had told him about his second year. Sirius knew this particular elf and the way she was looking at him. It didn't mean anything good, she had made it very clear that any way Sirius Black acted, looked or even stood as the brother-in-all-but-blood of James Potter also reflected on the Potter name. A name the elf didn't want to see sullied. He had felt her permission to use a frying pan when someone was misbehaving several times.

"Sirius Black?" the elf managed to say. She was so shocked at what she saw she forgot any and all titles.

"In flesh and blood, Demele. What brings you here?"

Instead of answering the elf turned to Harry. "Demele sees what Master Potter meants and Demele will see Mister Black restoreds. Mister Black, come with me."

If Sirius had learnt anything in his time at the Potters it was: you do not refuse Demele when she had an order concerning you, given by her current master, whatever that order may be. He grabbed her outstretched hand and felt the familiar squeeze of apparition. In a matter of seconds he was inside Potter Manor.

It still was every inch the beautiful and elegant old house, without being oppressive, he remembered. In comparison with other families the Potters had never bragged with their wealth, but the official Manor couldn't be left rustic now, could it? The floor was of mahogany wood and there were no marks of knots. The walls painted in a fresh creamy white, without looking like an infirmary, here and there the occasional brush marks formed a distinctive pattern, much like intricate vines that disappeared when looking too closely.

Only if one paid great attention it became clear just how much this house was worth. The handrail of the stairs was adorned with filigree scrimshaws of family crests and different magical and non-magical beasts and each filigree had either precious stones so small embedded in it the wood seemed to reflect the light itself or had been accentuated by being painted nearly the colour of the wood, giving it an exquisite look. An example were the Kneazle eyes, they had rubies embedded, making the cat-like animal's eyes look very alive.

The door to where the drawing room had to be was made of darker mahogany and engraved with the Potter family crest, highlighted with silver. All the brush strokes seemed to flow to that door, but they were made with enough caution that other doorways didn't go unnoticed. Such as the one to the kitchen, on that door were vines engraved that looked as if they were alive. It was a house that spoke volumes of how well-off the people living in there were, without it looking as if they would brag. Sirius felt at home.

"Requis! Randa! Moire!" Demele called the other elves.

Three consecutive _crack_s announced the arrival of said elves. They all were wearing a uniform like Demele did, Requis and Moire had the male version, which actually resembled a suit.

"Demele called?" one of the males said. Sirius could never tell them apart at first; James had told him that those two were twins.

"Master Potter has saids we should look after Mister Black until he feels better," Demele said. The reference to their current master had the three elves all over 'Mister Black' and Demele in a matter of seconds urging them to tell what else Master Potter may have said.

"Mi'ter Black plea' follow Moire, there are 'till clothe' Mi'ter Black can wear," one of the twins said when they had calmed down. Now Sirius remembered that a way to tell them apart was that one couldn't pronounce hissing noises, while the other had no problems at all.

Sirius nodded and was led upstairs. All the doors were closed and the only light in the corridor came from the sconces burning a warm reddish gold. Here and there were paintings hanging on the walls, but when Sirius looked, there was no one in there. He was sure though the last time he had been here most of these were portraits and showed Potter family members. Now, no one resided in the frames.

"Lord' and Ladie' have gone to the family tree in the drawing room, they want to wait for the young Ma'ter Potter to return, before going back," Moire next to him stated, having noticed Sirius' gaze. The elf opened a door and Sirius was shocked.

It was his room. Well, the room he had lived in when he had run away from his home. It still had the Gryffindor banners hanging around and the pictures of James, Remus, Peter and himself standing on the bedside table, things he hadn't taken with him after graduating. A small bookcase was also there, although most books were of little academic value. What surprised Sirius the most was the elf heading to his wardrobe. They couldn't have kept his things, all this was at least… well, old. And there was the problem of his imprisonment.

"We have kept order in all thing' and nothing ha' lo't it' 'ape. I hope 'ome 'till fit' Mi'ter Black," Moire said and took some pants and shirts out of the wardrobe.

To be honest, Sirius had actually awaited the house-elves to destroy every last remnant of his possessions after he had been imprisoned. After all he had been framed as the murderer of their beloved master. Seeing now how the elves had kept everything and didn't let it be eaten by moths and preventing the things from showing any signs of aging made Sirius almost cry.

"Thank you," he instead managed to say.

"We know that Mi'ter Black would never betray Ma'ter Jame' to that per'on. Mi'ter Black like' Ma'ter Jame' and we knew he would return 'ometime, 'o we prepared everything. Doe' Mi'ter Black know when Ma'ter Potter will come?" the elf said smiling broadly.

Sirius was preventing tears from falling by sheer strength of will. "No, I'm sorry Moire, I don't know when Harry will come."

"Then Mi'ter Black ha' 'een young Ma'ter?" the elf's eyes were shining. "Can Mi'ter Black tell at breakfa't to we elve' of Potter Hou'e?"

"Of course, I will be delighted to tell you anything I know of him. Could you pass me the shirt?" Sirius said.

The elf bowed, gave Sirius the shirt and told 'Mi'ter Black' to call him should he need anything. Then the elf left, probably to help the others somewhere, it was quite the big house after all. Sirius stood there a moment, shirt in hand and remembering the old days when everything was much easier. Although the threat of Lord Voldemort had hung above their heads he remembered the time as cheerful and happy. He wrenched himself away from the memories and changed his shirt. He was surprised to see that he hadn't grown much in width from when he was sixteen, the sleeves though were at least three inches too short, but else it fit. The same went for his pants, he actually had gotten thinner around his waist, but that didn't disturb since he was going to sleep in these clothes. He felt much better after he had changed into the clean set of clothes.

Someone knocked at his door, probably one of the female elves, they didn't have the permission to go in rooms where males were and it was the same for the male elves with female people. Many wouldn't understand this order, after all house-elves were their servants, but this ban gave them a bit more human-like treatment. Male humans didn't go uninvited into the chambers of women either, did they? Sirius called the elf inside and saw Randa enter. She bowed before him.

"Demele-sister sended Randa to tell Mister Black Demele-sister is looking to Master Potter, so when Mister Black wants to speak to Demele-sister it is not possible at the moment. Demele-sister will be back in the morning, Mister Black," Randa told him. Sirius knew that Randa hadn't served the household as long as the other three, she still used the elfish honorific for a senior after all. Usually they stopped doing that when they had worked for fourty years in the same place.

"Thank you for the information, Randa. I think though I'll go to bed now."

Randa left the room wishing him a good night. Sirius stood next to his bed, still a bit overwhelmed. He looked around and then Sirius' memories produced one of the most wonderful summer holidays he had had. The one in sixth year when he had decided to leave his home, he had been welcomed with open arms into the family, drenched from the rain and looking quite miserable, but Mr and Mrs Potter had taken him in…

He shook his head to clear his thoughts and then lay down. It was wonderful to sleep in a comfortable bed after twelve years of an Azkaban cell. He snuggled deeper into the warm blanked and fell asleep quite fast, for once relaxed.

* * *

While Sirius was sinking into the arms of Morpheus Harry was asking his house-elf everything that popped into his mind. The first thing had been to ask if she could do a privacy spell, so that no one could hear them. He was nearly panicking, seeing as he had talked with Sirius earlier without doing any spell of this sort. Harry was surprised when Demele said that there was a spell preventing eavesdropping there, usually all guest rooms had some spells of this sort. He was immensely relieved.

"Do I have any obligations as Head of House?"

Demele was a bit surprised that Harry didn't know most of the traditions and manners someone with a status like his should have. She was only happy to answer each question he posed.

"Master Potter has a seat in the Wizengamot for listening to decisions, all Heads of House have. Master Potter can claim the seat when Master Potter thinks the time is right. Master Potter also has a second seat in the Wizengamot, Lord Potter seat. Master can claim this when Master is of age."

"Are there some things I shouldn't do? Or things I have to look out for?" Harry started to be a bit panicked, he hadn't thought the name Potter had such extensive holds just about everywhere. Some things hadn't shown up in the banking information, the Potter household for example held some seats in different Muggle companies, but all those were held by proxies, they didn't know clearly who it was they were representing.

He had also learnt in this short time that there were still many families, who were allied to the Potters and many non-allied ones that had repeatedly asked for counsel – of course before he had become the last Head of House. He hadn't asked what families exactly, because he thought that he wouldn't need the knowledge just yet it may just weigh him down when he saw known people, who were allies of his... He had also heard that the Potter household had held some soirées, before his paternal grandparents had died.

"If Master Potter wishes, Demele can teach Master Potter some basic things Head of ancient and noble House usually know." Demele usually gave just enough information to answer his question.

Harry nodded. "Yes, I'd like that. Can we start tomorrow? I don't have much to do and you can tell me about my ancestors…"

Demele was smiling brightly. "Demele will come in the morrow for Master Potter. Demele is happy to show Master Potter! Demele cannot teach Master Potter to behaves correctly as Head of House, Demele isn't knowing enough… maybe Master Potter knows someone who can helps?"

"Er… I actually don't know… maybe Sirius would be able to teach me?"

The elf looked thoughtful. "Demele will asks Mister Black if he can helps. Is there anything Master Potter wants to asks Demele?"

Harry denied and bid the elf good bye then she cracked away and he went to sleep. He was looking forward to the next day, very much so. He slept and again dreams came.

* * *

_It was the dark again, fluttering around him, helping him soar the endless places he dreamt. The dreamscape had changed since the last time he had visited these places. He still felt the fear, anxiousness and despair underneath him, but there was light also around him. The dark was not anymore just a companion, it felt more like an extension of himself._

_He led the dark to a place where there was more light. He couldn't see clearly what it was, but he had the impression he had seen it before. He almost laughed when he saw what it was, the moon shone there. The dark again talked to him and he didn't understand it this time either. However, this time he knew what it was trying to bring across. The dark told him that this moon was eternally full and never changing. The dark loved and hated the moon at the same time, as much as it loved and hated itself for doing so._

_He then told the dark to go to another place. The light there was an eerie, blood coloured reddish gleam. He didn't see this time what it was, because when the dark had brought him inside, it had become pitch black. The dark seemed to become wilder, but so much prouder so much nobler than outside. It told him that this place was much like a cave and it liked to be here alone, but welcomed him as the only other being allowed inside._

_He told the dark he had seen enough for this time. The dark guided him again to where the dream's end was. The dark was reluctant to let him go. He said to the dark that he would return and that the dark should not fear being left alone, he would return._

_"Thank you."_

_And the dream disappeared._

* * *

RedMamba. Until next time!

Quizzy: Where from do I have the name 'Demele'? I'd like to hear your guesses :D

Review-answers:

**Yana5: **Thank you for the review! I hope you're not disappointed in my portrayal of Sirius :)

**Doclover: **I won't. :) I have plans for the Weasleys (muhahaha, that sounds so lame) and I think I won't even bash old Dumbledore. Thanks for the review!

**I Judicator: **Thank you! I'm happy you liked it :D

**mdauben: **Glad you liked it :) I hope you aren't disappointed by what happened, either. Thank you for the review!

**Kairan1979: **:D I hope it isn't too obvious. Thank you for the review!

**Penny is wise: **Glad you liked it :D yep, he should have asked xD Thank you for reviewing!

**TheAngelofOblivion-DarkMadness: **I hope you liked the chapter :D Thanks for the review!


	6. Torture Curse and The Library Vault

Well, hello there :D

As some of the reviews express how bewildered people were to why exactly Harry didn't go to the Potter Manor, the chapter will hopefully explain. (Though I'll answer in the review-answers at the end, as usual. Please read the bold inscription at the end, thank you!)

Thank you for reading this story and on that train: I have a celebration to do: this breached 100 follows, 50 favorites, and 25 reviews (well, yeah, I like it because it's always divided by two... yes, in case you haven't noticed, I am a bit odd.)

**Disclaimer: **The awesome J.K. Rowling wrote Harry Potter and it's hers. Though the Potter house-elves are mine :)

RedMamba

* * *

Harry opened his eyes, half expecting to see Orion lying there next to him. When he didn't see the dog Harry remembered the last day's happenings. It seemed so unreal. First the prophecy, then Orion turns out to be his godfather, who is nota bene a wrongly convicted murderer of thirteen Muggles, one wizard, Voldemort's follower _and_ his father's best friend. Talk about a calm year, Harry thought sarcastically, this was a little less strange than his previous school years and it was only summer break, for Merlin's sake!

He sat up and looked around the room and as if on cue Demele appeared. The house-elf was equally impeccably dressed as the day before and Harry wondered if that's an order she was working under. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

"Good morning, Master Potter," she greeted and bowed low. "If master can makes himself ready, Demele will takes master to purchase clothes appropriate for Head of House Potter, as Master Potter askeds of Demele. After Master Potter has eatens breakfast."

"Yes, thank you Demele. Wait a moment, please."

Harry left the bed, grabbed some clothes and made for the bathroom. Not much later he emerged, feeling refreshed and ready to take on the world. Well, maybe not the world, but at least the day. He went downstairs and ate some toast and drank some tea, he wasn't that hungry he was so excited. Maybe ten minutes later he went again upstairs and saw that Demele had been cleaning up. She looked at him and he nodded to his elf that they could leave. Demele held her hand out and together they disapparated. On the previous evening Demele had explained this way of travelling to the eager Harry, who had after all seen it when she left with Sirius. He was disappointed that he couldn't start learning it right away.

They appeared in front of Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions and Demele ushered Harry, who was still a bit wobbly after his first apparation*, inside, where already some people were standing and now looked at the strange pair. Not heeding the attention Harry followed his house-elf into a separate section in which robes completely different to the others were. They looked way more official and costly. Harry was a bit unsure as how he would choose the robes, all looked quite the same and he was sure that somewhere there belonged his family crest. Demele stood next to him and eyed him up, deciding that Harry needed much more than only new clothes to make him look and act like the lord he was.

"Hello," they were spoken to by a male shop assistant. "I'm Aron Malkin, I am in charge of the section for robes for Lords and Ladies. How may I help you, young Lord?"

Surprised at being addressed as 'Lord' Harry needed a moment to sort his thoughts. He obviously wasn't perceived as 'Boy-Who-Lived', but as Lord Potter. He looked at the husband of the shop's owner. He was maybe seven inches taller than Harry. His dark brown hair was combed back flawlessly and his bright blue eyes sparkled intelligently behind his oval glasses, although Harry had the impression that his right eye was nearly blind as over the pupil was a grey screen. All in all Mr Malkin looked competent. The man wore dark green robes and bright white gloves covering big hands.

"I need some formal robes, a new set of robes for everyday use and school robes please," Harry said politely, repeating what Demele had told him before they had apparated.

"Of course, what colour does your family crest have?" Mr Malkin asked.

"Silver, black."

"Ah, yes, yes. Then I propose black formal robes, so that the crest's black colour is actually the robe's colour. In this way it is possible that you can change the size of the crest, without it looking too artificial."

Harry nodded numbly and Mr Malkin disappeared behind some hallstands, returning with at least five different robes, all in black. Mr Malkin held them in front of Harry and two of them he discarded the moment he held them in front of Harry.

"How many formal robes did you want exactly?"

Harry thought a moment before answering: "I think two will do…"

"I see. Could you please stand on this stool and I will be showing you these three models I think suit you best, and you can say which ones you prefer?"

The first robe was very classy and Harry thought he looked at least five years older, but was not sure he really liked it. After the next two robes Harry decided on the first and third one, the second was in Harry's opinion too heavy. Mister Malkin then asked what colours Harry favoured. At the indifferent answer the man said he would see Harry in dark green, blackish burgundy and different shades of blue, not bright ones but everything darker than royal blue. Harry nodded and asked for a set of every colour, Mr Malkin came back with three robes of every colour, so nine in total.

Harry then settled for one forest green robe, one deep sea blue and one black robe with every third thread being burgundy. He had been in this store for at least an hour and hadn't even fitted the robes yet, and he needed new school robes… that was an easier thing, as the school robes were the same for every student.

It was also the school robes that were fitted first. It didn't take the practised hands of Mr Malkin long to have them sorted fast and accurately. With a few wand movements the school robes were now neatly folded and lying on a nearby stool. Next were the everyday robes, they too didn't take much time. The burgundy one was a bit tricky, because the red thread couldn't be overlaid with another red one, the burgundy would then be too visible, not the intended shimmer behind the black. The Potter family crest was on all of them, very small and only visible if you knew what you were looking for. At last Mr Malkin was content with the result and was practically swooning over the young lord.

The formal robes proved to be the most difficult ones, even though they didn't have any special colours underlining them. What Harry didn't see though, were the different kind of threads the formal robes were woven with. In the end it took about an hour for each formal robe to be fitted.

Mr Malkin's hand slipped when they were fitting the last robe and that almost caused a needle to pierce Harry. Only now the young wizard saw that Mr Malkin's hands were trembling. He wondered if that had started recently, maybe it wouldn't hurt if he asked?

"Mr Malkin, excuse if it may be impolite, but your hands seem to tremble?"

The man looked sadly at Harry, but answered none the less: "Yes, they do ever since the last war against You-Know-Who. I'm very sorry, did it cause you pain?"

"No, I'm fine. May I ask what it is that makes them unsteady?" Harry knew he was on thin ice, but he was quite sure he was polite enough.

"You may, it is not something I am ashamed of, only if it interferes with my work," Mr Malkin told him, looking rather grave, but still smiling. "It was the torture curse, I came away with little damage compared to others, young Lord."

Harry nodded. He couldn't do more, it would feel very forced and as if he would push his pity on the man. He knew from himself that he didn't want pity, he assumed Mr Malkin wouldn't want any either, the man had after all told him so more or less by his statement. The rest of the fitting was uneventful and they finished soon after their discussion.

Harry was exhausted when he went to pay, but was stopped by Demele, who filled some forms and Mr Malkin who seemed to be acquainted with this form of payment, he decided wisely to not say anything to either of them. As they exited the store and Demele vanished the clothes' bags Harry felt confident enough to ask her what this was about.

"In the wizarding world it is also possible to pay with cheques, but only house-elves can fill them out, because we are bound to the house buying the things and would never betray our masters," Demele explained. She huffed. "Did no one tolds Master Potter anything?"

Rather than to answer her Harry just smiled at her and shook his head minimally. He had grown quite fond of the elf, even though he knew her for less than a day. It felt good to have someone fussing over oneself and be scandalised for him, thought Harry, but he would never admit it.

The cheque-thing made some sense to Harry. If everyone could say "Well, Lord thisandthat is paying" it would be stressful for said Lord or Lady to right everything. House-elves were the obvious choice then. He nodded in thought and let himself be led through Diagon Alley by Demele, it was time for lunch and he didn't want to decide where he should eat.

The house-elf brought Harry to a restaurant in which Harry could go in wearing jeans and a simple shirt. Demele vanished with a _crack. _Harry ate some chicken curry and when he left the building, he headed to Gringotts. Demele had told him this morning that he needed some spellbooks from the library vault and he was the only one who could pick them up, as not even house-elves were able to enter.

* * *

He walked up the white marble stairs and went to a teller, who was somehow familiar.

"Hello, I would like to go to my family vault, but I'd need to see Mr Thorclawe," Harry began. Now remembering where he had seen the goblin, it was Bargolt, the one who had fetched Thorclawe when he had been here two days earlier. Was it truly only two days since he had read his parents' last will?

"Ah, Mr Potter. Yes, I'll get your accountant, I believe there are still some issues with the vault and he seems to have time right now," the goblin answered, looking at something like an agenda, and left. It didn't take him long until he came back and showed Harry the way to Thorclawe's office, where he left the young wizard.

_Here we go again,_ Harry thought and knocked on the impressive doors. They opened soundlessly and permitted so his entrance. Harry stood there some feet from the desk and waited patiently for the goblin to end whatever he was working on. Finally after half a minute Thorclawe made the last point, rolled the parchment up and looked at Harry.

"Young Mr Potter, to what do I owe your sudden visit?" he said friendly.

"I would like to get some books from the library vault. I believed you could lead me there?" Harry asked unsure of how to deal with this situation.

Thorclawe nodded, muttering "of course, of course" and stood up from his chair. He motioned for Harry to follow him and led the boy through the entrance hall to where the carts were. Both clambered inside the uncomfortable carts, Thorclawe taking the steering seat and Harry behind him. The way to his vaults was horrible, long and absolutely unfunny and this time Harry was convinced he'd seen a dragon. The cart stopped somewhere in the deepest levels, Harry didn't see if it went any deeper, the front light seemed only to shine right where he wanted to go, and got off the cart.

Thorclawe led him to a big lithic door, in which were intricate pictures carved in. Runes, Harry noticed, that were powerful because of how the goblins had worked together with wizards to create this vault. It was truly impressive, the magic was palpable it had that much power. The goblin turned to face Harry.

"Mr Potter, this vault is one of the oldest in Gringotts and is protected by both wizarding and goblin ways against thievery. Even for a goblin of Gringotts it is impossible to enter without the explicit permission of the owner, which is at the moment no one. You will take ownership of this vault when you have proven to it by blood that you are the rightful heir of the Potter name and if you aren't, well, I won't be cleaning up afterwards."

Harry shuddered. So this was the reason the goblin hadn't proved his identity upstairs, he wouldn't come back if he wasn't of Potter bloodline. Clever.

"You can state to which vaults you want access, as you know I and Foressee will test you if you want to take ownership of the monetary vaults," Thorclawe finished his explanation.

Harry nodded his understanding and went some steps nearer to the door. Just as he wanted to ask how in the name of Merlin he was supposed to give any blood to the runes without him smashing his palm against some stone, he saw the dagger right in front of the door.

The dagger was of the same stone as the door, ironic as Harry had considered smashing his palm against one. It was clear how Harry had overlooked it before, the dagger lay in the midst of a circle of runes, all the same colour the stones around and the knife had this colour, too. From four places in the circle line a chain of runes wormed its way to the dagger, the runes continuing on the blade, but never piercing it. Without thinking Harry picked the ritual knife up and kneeled to the side of the circle. He now sat right in front of the door, only the circle between him and the massive magic. The dagger pulsed.

"I, Harry James Potter, Head of House Potter, access hereby the library vault, nothing else," Harry said automatically. It wasn't him who had said it, but the knowledge of what he had to say ran through him with the magic the blade emitted. He cut into his palm.

He saw as if from the outside how the blood trickled down his palm. He held his hand over the circle and watched the red liquid flow towards his middle finger. As if in slow motion he saw the droplet fall onto one of the chains. The runes started to glow and as the other three droplets touched the chains they all shimmered a blinding white.

"So mote it be," he finished.

He started to realise what was happening when the stone doors rattled open. Harry was overwhelmed at what he was seeing, it had said that the library vault was only accessible through the family vault and that was what he was seeing. Although he wasn't able to picture the amount of gold he possessed this would have been more than his wildest imaginations. Heaps of gold, and more heaps of more gold were in the vault, several hundred different objects were also around; Harry couldn't tell what most of them were for. In the middle of the vault was a path leading to a second pair of doors, which was made of wood and decorated with golden enamel. That seemed to be the entrance to the library, so Harry made his way to the doors. Once he stood in front of it he took the big, golden handles and pulled the doors open.

* * *

He was greeted by a dusty smell, little light and racks upon racks filled with ancient books. As he entered torches, in recesses specifically made to keep the library lighted and the fire as far away from the books as possible, lighted and he saw himself in a hall rivalling the Prophecy Cathedral in its size. He tried to remember what books he exactly needed and headed to an illuminated silver stand, not far away from him. There was an accurate carving of the library in the stand. Harry looked at it and decided to head to the 'Spells' section at first, then he would go to the 'Family History' part, more out of curiosity than anything else.

He walked around and lost his way two times, ending first up in 'Wards' when he thought he reached the spells, though technically warding was a branch of spells, they seemed to have a special standing in the Potter family… then he ended up in 'Peverell'. On his third try in changing direction in one of the crossings he finally found the 'Spells' section. It didn't help him much to have found it though, there was simply an unbelievable amount of books. He looked at some of the backs and was surprised to find some he knew from Hogwarts. Some had a title that had Harry wondering if his ancestors had used dark magic, but then decided that to ward off against dark spells one needed to know some of them. He picked two books: 'Introduction to Blood Based Spells' and 'Untraceable Spells'. Demele had only mentioned the second one, but when Harry had looked at the Blood Based Spells he found that it was more about family magic than actually using blood for spells. He went back to the silver stand and laid the tomes next to it. He went off to the 'Family History' section.

This time he found it on his first try, mostly because it was a clearly separated section and the 'Peverell' he had walked past before belonged to it. Although he was standing right in front of it, he couldn't quite believe what he saw. There were books upon books, all neatly arranged in chronological order, starting in the second century BC. Talk about old families, he just stood in front of one of the first written down evidence of magical history and his family was the one doing the writing. Thinking about what he saw, it was clear that the goblins had underestimated the worth of the books held by the Potter family. It seemed that they hadn't gotten the permission to come into this vault and had just asked an ancestor of his for an estimation. He picked again two books, newer ones. One dating to right before his birth and the other, after thinking over it for quite the time, was one dating to 1665-1680 _Gregorian calendar_. That was the time when his ancestors had found out about that they had been given a prophecy, maybe he would find a clue to what it meant in the book.

He returned to the stand and picked the other two books up and made for the wooden doors. As he stepped outside an invisible border the torches unlit immediately, leaving the library in absolute darkness. Harry turned around to see the doors close themselves when he wasn't in the vicinity of the movement, he thought he heard several locks click closed and a faint humming from the magic that kept the doors as they were.

When he was walking through the family vault he had again the feeling that the estimation had been wrong. Though the monetary value may have been correct, all the things (for lack of a better word) were surely quite valuable if not beyond price.

* * *

Thorclawe was still waiting patiently for him outside. Now as Harry looked more closely, he saw that the runic carvings were quite big and that the goblin stood just outside their reach, he shuddered to think what could happen when you stepped uninvited into their magical reach. That he had been able to pass them was because there was no owner of the vaults, Harry understood suddenly. It would be possible that the runes had grown after he had taken ownership of the vault, Harry further thought. He saw Thorclawe grin the goblin smile and walk back to the cart. Wordlessly he followed the accountant and sat down in the cart, all four books on his lap. The way back up was equally horrible as the one down and Harry wondered if this was part of the defence system the goblins had built for their bank.

When they climbed out of the cart something came to Harry's attention: "Mr Thorclawe… can you somehow make it impossible for other people to take these books? It would be bad if they were stolen…"

The goblin looked impressed and nodded. "Of course it is. The bag I gave you for the documents has a spell on it similar to what you described: aside of fitting all the parchment in it also makes the bag too heavy to lift for anyone aside you, featherweight charms cannot be casted on it. I guess I can do a similar protection on the books, I would have proposed something alike… I take it the parchments aren't lying around?"

"No, no. I put them all back in the bag." Harry smiled at the thoughtful goblin. "Thank you very much, Mr Thorclawe," Harry said relieved. He had for the first time tangible proof of his ancestors and he was loath to lose it, because someone had the idea to steal the books.

They made a short detour to Thorclawe's office, where the goblin put the spells and some more on the books and a bag for them, for the case they wouldn't be in Harry's possession anymore. In the end the books would simply vanish back into the vault if they weren't where Harry could find them and they would burn anyone trying to touch them without Harry's permission. First it seemed to the young wizard a bit over the top, but after hearing that several families put even more protection to whatever possessions they were holding at home Harry found it quite okay.

"Thank you, Mr Thorclawe. It was a pleasure to do business with you," Harry told the goblin as he left. He had picked up that several important looking wizards said the same when bidding their farewell to the goblins.

Thorclawe looked impressed, he hadn't awaited for a wizard this young and grown up in the Muggle world to actually pick this particularity up. Then Harry bowed and unknowingly to him he had just gained very powerful allies, for it had been a very long time since the last wizard had bowed his head to a goblin. And goblins did not take the showing of respect lightly.

"It was my pleasure working with you, young Lord Potter."

A witch near them almost tripped when she heard the goblin address Harry like this, but else didn't show any sign of overhearing them. Harry guessed that the next day in the Daily Prophet would be written, apart from that that they hadn't found Sirius yet, that Harry had taken the Potter lordship, or was at least the Head of House Potter. Harry sighed.

He made his way back to the Leaky Cauldron, he wasn't interested in meeting anyone anymore today and so disappeared into his room upstairs. He was unsure what to do, so he decided to look at the spellbooks he had picked out. The one about family magic wasn't very specific, but Harry understood that it would be stupid to write down family secrets when you couldn't be sure to keep them. The section he read was about the way to cast the spells, all were to be casted silently. _Of course,_ Harry thought, they were _secret _after all and saying the incantation out loud wasn't keeping them secret. He had underestimated how tiring it was to read a book in an older form of English and put it away after the first chapter.

He leant back to the headboard of the bed, mulling over the introduction and warnings he had read. He needed to learn something like 'Occlumency' before he could start to learn the spells. It would keep his mind safe from intruders. He sighed and decided to write to Neville, he had promised it after all and the company of the other boy would be something Harry welcomed after the unusual happenings these last days. Some normality, he guessed, could be wished for even by him.

He finished the letter in which he wrote that any day before the 31st and also after would be okay, because on that date the Weasleys and Hermione would come, afterwards they all could meet up in the train. He said the thirty first wouldn't be that great since he knew how chaotic it all would become when the Weasleys arrived and they would simply overrun both of them. If so, they couldn't talk together at all and that wasn't the goal now, was it? He sealed the letter and Hedwig, full well knowing it would be given to her, hooted softly. She took the letter in her beak and flew off after Harry had opened the window. He watched the form of his snowy owl become smaller with the increasing distance.

He decided to go downstairs to eat his dinner. Tom took his order and this time Harry had a nosy witch pestering him for an interview for the _Daily Prophet, _because she had gotten the tip that he'd taken the lordship. Harry waved her off by telling rather gruffly that she'd better inform the people on how the ministry was unable to find Sirius Black, the witch blanched at that but left him then to his business – eating. He went again upstairs and read in the book for untraceable spells.

* * *

_Crack._

Harry jumped almost six feet in the air when he heard an elf appear. He turned around and saw Demele with Sirius. The older wizard looked a little bit better, it seemed that one of the three other elves had bought some clothes that actually fit him, although he still looked haunted and ready to run any second.

"Hi? What are you doing here?" Harry asked surprised.

"Demele told me you wanted to learn to behave like a pureblood would. Family name and all," Sirius answered gesturing with the hands to the family books. "Though I won't be the best example, being labelled a blood-traitor and such by my family."

Now Harry remembered. "Yeah, I would like to learn. I can't walk around not knowing how to bring my case across without making a fool of myself and by extension the whole Potter ancestry."

Sirius looked thoughtful. Neither he nor James had really troubled themselves with behaving properly, but then again most people they had contact with hadn't bothered with it either, plus there was a war going on. He understood that Harry hoped to be able to use his political power to somehow help him. Sirius also saw that he wouldn't be able to tell Harry not to care, the way the boy looked at him reminded him very much of how Lily would look when she absolutely wouldn't have James and Sirius doing a prank on someone.

"Sure… I'll teach you," he sighed. "But that doesn't mean I'll teach you how to be an arrogant git, like the Malfoy spawn you described."

Harry laughed at that. "Thank you, I wouldn't have wanted to be like him. More like discreet aristocracy, not being overly snobbish... wait, I'll think of an example" Harry mulled over this one. Neville? No, too unsure, though Harry knew he was being drilled to take the Longbottom lordship later on. Weasleys? Pureblooded? He thought so, aristocracy? No, he was almost laughing at this thought. Slytherins? He had too little contact to know any examples.

He had quite the time and then suddenly it was so clear, he just spoke: "I guess that you have an aura that's quite like that."

Sirius opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again and looked aghast at Harry. He pointed at himself looking quizzically. At Harry's nod he was on the verge of laughing out loud. Instead he managed a shaky sigh and ran a hand through his, still too long and messy, hair.

"Don't laugh, I'm serious," Harry defended himself.

He couldn't help it anymore, Sirius was laughing now. "No, you're not. I'm Sirius."

Flabbergasted Harry looked at his godfather, who was now doubling over from laughter. Well, okay, the pun was unintendedly good albeit very obvious and seemed prone to over-usage, but it was meant as an honest compliment. Harry snorted, but had to grin too. Sirius looked much younger laughing and mirth sparkling from his eyes, it also took some of the tiredness he had carried around away from him.

"I was just surprised that you said I'd look like an aristocrat, even after twelve years Azkaban. Thank you, though. And I'll stay with it, I try to teach you the ways of 'proper pureblood' etiquette," he said, snorting at the last words. "When do you want to start?"

"I thought about going to Potter Manor. I don't have anything to do in Diagon Alley, I think I'll shop either with Neville or Ron and Hermione, plus I can always return. So could we do that daily? And if I don't make any progress in five days, you'll nag about it constantly?"

Sirius nodded. He could see from where Harry was coming, the boy needed the right attitude around some people after getting the title 'Head of House'. On this train of thought something popped into Sirius' mind.

"Have you taken the Potter lordship?"

"I'm not entirely sure, though Thorclawe addressed me as such after I accessed the library vault."

"Then you have taken it," Sirius said gravely. "That means even more ways you can behave wrongly."

"How can you tell?"

Sirius looked up from his musings. "Ah, well, I'm the last living male Black and I inherited all accesses to the family vaults, it automatically made me Lord Black, even though I was kicked out of the family – not disinherited mind you, guess they didn't want to see the Black money in the hands of another family," he said humourlessly. "It's standard procedure for the goblins and wizarding community. Once you have the access to any vault you're Lord."

Harry nodded. Sirius then took a seat opposite from him on the floor, declining the offer for a chair and started to explain from where some expectations towards a Lord of an ancient and noble house came. It was because long ago wizards were expected to appear on court and make a good impression on the royal families, of course before the statute of secrecy was introduced. Changes happened much slower in the wizarding community and thus it was still tradition to have some mannerism that were long outdated in the Muggle world. Harry listened attentively and made some mental notes to behave like some prince in Muggle fairy tales (or not…) _Merlin, _he thought_, this will be exhausting_.

It got later and Sirius had halfway through digressed to telling Harry more about the school years of his parents' and Harry was happy to listen to the story. Harry was only too relieved that this 'proper behaving for lords' wasn't a subject at school, else he would need to write essays about when what was en vogue and when it disappeared from the education in old families. Sirius laughed when Harry mentioned this and then went with Demele back to Potter Manor, while Harry went downstairs. Demele would take him back later, Harry still needed to inform the landlord that he was leaving.

Tom was a bit disappointed when Harry told him that Orion had gone and he'd leave too. Tom inquired where he would go to, as it wasn't safe with a mass-murderer on the run. Harry almost laughed at that, but told him that he'd go to his warded family home. A house-elf would take him there. The information left the landlord speechless and Harry grinned at him. He went back to his room, only to find his things gone and Demele waiting. What then happened downstairs wasn't something Harry noticed, being out of the room, but Tom informed the minister of magic about Harry's leaving and that one went straight to Dumbledore. Those two had a lengthy discussion, but that was something that Harry would face another time.

"Is Master Potter ready to leaves?" she asked excitedly. It had been years since the last Potter had lived in his family home and she was so happy to see a Potter come back.

"Yes, let's go. Though would you wait with the house tour? I think the manor will be so much more beautiful when it's daytime. And I'm dropping dead on my feet."

Demele nodded and apparated them back, right into the master's bedroom. She told him that Mister Black seemed to have fallen asleep already, Azkaban was still taking its toll. Harry only nodded and thanked Demele.

"Requis, Moire and Randa will be most happy to see Master Potter has returneds, but Demele has tolds them that Master Potter wisheds rest. Demele hopes it was acceptable to tells them so?"

"Yes, thank you very much. You can tell them I'm sorry, but I'm just so tired," Harry said and smiled at the elf. Demele bowed and left.

Harry was overwhelmed with just the room and what happened over the day. He was glad Demele had told the other elves not to come pester him, for all he knew they could be as enthusiastic as Dobby and _that _was something to deal with when you were wide awake. He searched for his nightwear and went into the adjourning bathroom. He concluded where he had to go, because on the door were waves carved into the wood. Once finished, he walked to the giant bed and fell asleep. This time he didn't dream, the dark was this time letting its stories be.

* * *

So then, I hope you liked it and where this is heading... though I admit I'm slow. We're in chapter 6 and not even on the train yet, not mentioning the meeting with Neville and the Weasleys plus Hermione...

Constructive criticism is always welcome as are your words telling if you liked it or not :D

* well, does anyone know what the substantive is for "apparate"? It isn't apparition (as I found out, that's something like seeing a ghost... yep, English isn't my first language :))

Review-answers:

**Penny is wise:** Glad you liked it :) Thanks for the review!

**geetac:** I hope you liked this one as well :) Thank you for the review!

**Yana5: **ah, I'm spoilering: he will, trust me. He's a bit... strage still from Azkaban and not thinking straight. He'll come around and tell Harry :) Thanks for the review!

**Doclover:** Thank you very much! Glad you liked it! :) Thanks for the review!

**TheAngelofOblivion-DarkMadness: **(you have a damn long username ;D) Sorry, not much teaching done here, but we're going to :) Thank you for liking my little Demele :D Thanks for the review!

**Kairan1979: **Yep, absolutely true what you said. He'll tell (I'm spoilering my own story, way to go, Red...) Sirius is just a bit headstrong and Azkaban-influenced right now :) Thanks for the review!

**Teufel1987:** Thank you :) I hope it betters (is that a word?) with the time and I don't make any faults that send you up a wall. I hope the chapter explains that, Harry thought it stupid to apparate back and forth if he could stay just one more night in the Cauldron and then go, I know I didn't make it clear in the last chapter, sorry :) Aand to Sirius' strange behaviour: The guy's just come out of Azkaban, he's a bit crazy even if it doesn't show ;) he'll tell.

**JadedPanther: **well, type one next time ;D

**ubetiburn: **It's not an accent. He cannot pronounce the 's' (I'm no linguist, so I invented that... :D) Yes, he's friends with Neville. But has Heir Longbottom ever in Harry's presence acted like that? No, he hasn't. It wouldn't pop into my mind at least if I haven't seen it. I hope you accept my reasoning :) Aand I dearly hope you'll be back (xD) and I'm just honoured you thought this could be something like the stories you mentioned. Thanks for that :) And Harry didn't go to the manor, because he needed to be in Diagon Alley the next day... my reasoning, sorry if it's stupid... :I Thanks for the review!

**Ehm. Starting this chapter I'll answer you per PM, this just makes the wordcount go up for nothing, as most of you don't read them (I guess). I'll though answer questions in chapter if I think they need to be answered... I hope I don't make you ask too many questions, that wouldn't be nice. (On that train of thought, those of you, who think Harry possesses too little shares and whatnot, I will explain that... later, I swear!)**

So, until next time!

Redmamba


	7. Potter Manor and The Third Dream

Hello there!

Thank you for all your awsome reviews! I love you guys! This chapter is the longest yet and I hope you like it! Let me know :) Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or anything affiliated with it. I do not make any money off of this story.

RedMamba

* * *

Harry woke to the sound of Demele apparating into his room. She was as the head-elf allowed to pop into the room of the Head of House Potter, no matter their gender. He startled and had to calm his heart before he turned to look at the house-elf. She was apologising exuberantly with tears in her big eyes something she had in common with Dobby, Harry noticed, smiling while he waved the apologies aside, assuring that he wasn't angry with her. It seemed that this characteristic was one the house-elves had somehow ingrained.

"Is Master Potter wantings to see the house?" Her eyes gleamed expectantly and were sparkling with joy.

Harry nodded, equally excited as the house-elf. He followed her down, noticing all the empty frames and closed doors. He asked her about the pictures and she said, he'd see once they reached the family room. Harry was confused at this, but was not going to spoil the surprise.

They reached the entrance hall and it was gorgeous. The wood gleamed in the sunshine, but was not blinding, the walls were invitingly white and everything just seemed to be at the right place. Harry immediately felt at home. This was truly beautiful and inviting, not artificial and cold. Demele led him to a door with intricate vines on it, they seemed so alive Harry was almost surprised they didn't move. As he opened the door he was greeted by four pairs of eyes. Three belonging to big, yellowish green eyes of house-elves and one grey, haunted pair. Sirius sat there with the elves and had waited for him to come down. They sat around a small table in what seemed to be the kitchen. Seeing as the table was scantly big enough for the elves and two wizards, there had to be a dining room somewhere, too.

"Good morning, Master Potter" "…Ma'ter Potter" the elves said cheerfully. Sirius went for a less formal "Good morning, Harry". Demele urged him to take a seat and eat the breakfast with his guest. Harry noticed the hidden test within, the head elf was testing his abilities to be polite in front of a guest and treat the guest nicely.

"Demele, I really don't care much to be treated as guest. After all I've taken temporary residence here, again. Plus, I am" here his eyes searched Harry's and the boy, guessing what Sirius was asking for, nodded. "family."

It felt good. Warm. The way Sirius had said family, as if that was how things had to be. They _were_ family, Harry thought and almost giggled. Here sat a member of his family, his family-family, not the Weasley-family, although he thought of them as family, too. This was Sirius, his godfather, chosen by his parents. It ranked a bit higher.

Demele huffed, but seemed content. The elves brought their breakfast: scrambled eggs, toast, wholemeal bread, butter and jam and orange juice, milk or tea. It briefly crossed Harry's mind that the elves had to go buy the food the day Sirius had arrived, the day before yesterday, and had bought the food in the night. There had to be a system there, too. It surprised Harry for the umpteenth time in this short time after hearing his parents' will how little he knew of the wizarding world, in which he held an influential position no less.

They ate in silence, that is until Harry made a catastrophic error. He told the elves that the breakfast was fabulous. The elves stopped dead in their tracks and Harry was going over his comment, looking for anything insulting.

He needed not search for anything negative, for the elves soon were thanking him and the other female, Randa, Harry guessed, was threatening to burst into tears. They looked so grateful and somehow proud. It was Demele, who took it upon herself to speak.

"Thank you very much, Master Potter. It is so long that last Mater Potter has liveds here and now Master Potter is so nice to us, we are very honoured to be your elves," she said and all four bowed low, thanking him. Harry smiled at that. "Can Demele shows you around?"

"Yes, please."

* * *

They, Harry, Demele and Sirius, left the kitchen, where they had eaten and went into the corridor Harry had come down earlier. It seemed that the corridor actually was more of an entrance hall, the staircase leading upstairs just right of the entrance doors. The place was big, just how big Harry hadn't imagined. Honestly said, had someone told him just _how _big his manor was he would have outright laughed and told the person to go check in St. Mungo's if there was anything wrong in their heads. Demele led them to a room in the west wing, the entrance to the manor was north. When the house-elf opened the door, Harry was greeted by many voices. They came from a painting as wide and high as the wall opposite the door, there in the frame Harry saw many familiar faces. Faces he had seen in the Mirror of Erised. His family. Those he had blood ties to in the magical world. He was overwhelmed. Then he saw them, in the right corner, leaning against something.

"Mum? Dad?"

His mother's brilliant green eyes shone with love. "Harry, we are so proud of you. Sirius has told us what you've told him. We couldn't be prouder!"

Harry was keeping tight control on himself, else he would have been a sobbing mess by now. He smiled at his mother, then his father came to the centre of the picture and bent down, as far as that was possible for a portrait.

"Lilyflower is right, you are truly a gem. Promise to tell us of your stories, I bet Padfoot here can't remember everything," he said and his eyes shone with mischief.

Harry couldn't help himself anymore. He stood there, crying and smiling. This was something he hadn't dared to dream about, a place where he saw his family, could talk to them and tell them what he always wanted to tell his parents. His mother said to him to go explore the house and then go right back to say how he found his house. _His house._

Harry nodded, but first he looked around this room. The framed family portrait was opposite the entry and the walls were some strange shade of greenish blue. There were many branch-like things worming their way from next to the door over the whole wall. When Harry went nearer to see what it was, he was startled to find a name. Not just any name, but the name Charlus Evert Potter and it rang a bell somewhere in his mind. That had been his father's second name… The name was written on a branch of the tree, and a second joined it there, on this branch stood Dorea Auriga Potter. Their branches converged and the sprout beneath then showed the name James Charlus Potter. This was a family tree! Now the room's name – family room – made sense. Harry looked for his own name and was surprised to find it, there it stood, below the names of his parents: Harry James Potter.

He was still grinning when Demele led them through the next rooms. The dining room was dominated by the big beautiful table, made of cherry wood as Demele explained and there were exquisite chairs around the long table. It was a beautiful dining room, it was classy, but not pompous. The whole place, it seemed to Harry, was gracefully reserved. It did not flaunt with riches, but was inviting with warmth and homeliness. The drawing room was a comfy place, it reminded Harry a bit of the Gryffindor common room, but it was much bigger with more coffee tables and couches and it had a picture window, with a glass door, that let into a wonderful garden. In some distance Harry could see… six goalposts? Was there a Quidditch pitch down there?

"Yes, the Potter's own Quidditch pitch. We can play sometimes, if you want to?" Sirius next to him asked, having seen where Harry was looking.

Harry nodded vigorously. "Are there brooms? I have one, but I doubt you do. And, are there some Quidditch balls?"

Sirius laughed and gave a positive answer for both, the brooms and the balls. While the pitch may not be the original size and the poles a bit lower, but after all it was still a Quidditch pitch.

They left the drawing room and Demele led them through the library, where also unused parchment, quills and ink was stored in some drawers in one cupboard. There was one quite big table in there, surrounded by seven chairs. Here one could work well, Harry thought. The books didn't seem as ancient and hard to read as those in the library vault. Harry guessed that in here were more practical, every-day books and looking over some shelves he found children's books from both magical and Muggle world and more books, that were not academic. Then Demele opened a door inside the library and there was the next room. But, what was it?

This room was something like a laboratory, study, classroom and kitchen combined. There stood some tables similar to those they brewed potions on in Hogwarts and further back was a desk where charts depicting star constellations, numerological charts, runic charts and much more that didn't make any sense to Harry – yet, were. There was a narrow window running along the edge of the room, where the wall and ceiling met. There were no cupboards for any ingredients and Harry guessed the door to his right was leading him into something like a basement. They didn't go through that door, though, but went back outside.

Demele opened that door, one right to the laboratory. It was a staircase leading down and another joining from the right later on, Harry had been right with his assumption of the basement. There were torches on the wall, no windows. As soon as their feet touched the first step their way was blocked. Demele explained the staircase now needed to hear where they were heading.

"The wine-cellar," Sirius said, madly grinning. At Harry's shocked look he explained: "They had some very rare beverages there, you as the master of the house should at least know what you have in your cellar. And I guess you can access this cellar from the kitchen or dining room, too."

Before Harry could answer from downstairs came a rumble. The floor didn't shake, but Harry was sure it would have if there wasn't magic involved. Then it came to a halt and they could go downstairs.

The wine-cellar was impressive, even though Harry didn't know most of the drinks and couldn't drink seven eights of it. There were racks filled with what seemed to be red wine, others filled with white wine, at least four racks with Firewhiskey and others filled with Butterbeer. Then again there were racks full of bottles Harry had never seen before. His eager house-elf ushered him upstairs again, but didn't go outside yet.

"There are three more rooms in the basement. The wine-cellar Master Potter has seens, the ingredients stock, which is only accessible from the laboratory, the food cellar and a wish-room, which is only accessible from the library" she explained. At Harry's quizzical nod she continued. "The wish-room can be everything a room is. It can be big, it can be small, it can even be a room that is not founds."

"How do I call it?"

"Master Potter has to thinks of how he wants the room."

Harry thought about a place, where you could practice spells and mock-fights. Something like a duelling room, but also with enough space to just sit there and read about a spell and then learn it. At best somewhere he could do magic without the ministry finding out. The floor rumbled again and this time it was louder, heavier. Harry thought he heard chains snap and clatter onto a floor he couldn't see and had the slightest sensation that there was warmth rushing upstairs. Finally it stopped and he went down, Sirius curiously following him.

It was exactly a room like Harry had pictured it. There was a carped on the floor as big as the duelling platform they had used last year and also a beanbag, some lights and – what were those…

"Duelling mannequins? You've got a strange taste, Harry," Sirius mused from next to him and then went to look at one. "Hey! I remember these! They look like those we used in Auror training."

"You were an Auror?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Not directly, I was a hit-wizard. Same training though, only a bit more violence than an Auror uses," Sirius answered, searching for the 'On' button. "While an Auror will just petrify you, bring you in a holding cell and ask you questions, a hit-wizard will stun you at the least and then tie you up with magic suppressing bonds, then bring you directly to the trial and force-feed you Veritaserum." Harry noticed a shadow passing over Sirius' eyes, but didn't ask. Then he looked puzzled at his godfather, who explained: "Truth serum. Will force you to tell the truth to whatever is asked of you. Though that's a bit exaggerated, but there _is _a difference between the two."

He had found the button and put the mannequin on 'simple, non-lethal', wanting to see how good he was. Sirius although had forgotten one key point in fighting with magic: a wand. His had been confiscated, if not broken, when he was imprisoned, he didn't have one. The mannequin chased him around and Sirius, knowing he wasn't able to perform wandless magic – yet? –, was dodging the jinxes and hexes.

"Stop it, Harry! I haven't got a wand!" he called over after he felt he had dodged enough, he still had pretty good reflexes, Sirius noticed proudly, he'd been only hit once with a weak stinging spell. He couldn't even feel it anymore.

Harry jumped into action and yelled the first spell that came to his mind: "Expelliarmus!"

The red jet of light crashed right to where the mannequin shot the jinxes out, he held no wand, as a wand wouldn't choose a non-living thing as its owner, and immediately it stopped shooting. Docilely it rolled back to the other two mannequins, where it came to a halt and didn't move anymore.

"Cool," Sirius commented, grinning. "Your spellwork and accuracy are quite good, though your technique could use some polishing. Can I teach you?"

"Eh, really? You want to? That would be great!" Harry exclaimed and wanted to discuss with Sirius further when he felt a shift in the mood in the room. He turned around to see his house-elf. Demele, head house-elf of the Potter family, didn't find it even remotely funny or 'cool' what had happened here. This was only emphasized when there was a hollow _clang _and Sirius clutching his head. The house-elf stood there, frying pan in hand and a murderous look in her big eyes. The pan was obviously conjured, as it was more used for the sound, not actually for bodily harm (although Demele looked ready to beat Sirius unconscious then and there…).

"Mister Black will refrains from doings things like this. Mister Black is still not healeds and is not ready to fights, yet. Teaching is okay, but Mister Black cannot fights himself!" Both wizards nodded, wondering though why she had hit him if he wasn't healed yet, and followed 'the holder of the frying pan' upstairs. Harry shot his godfather a glance and saw the older wizard grin.

Once upstairs both couldn't help it and giggled like mad. They had seen all the rooms downstairs and now headed up, where the bedrooms were, still laughing. There were several guest rooms, all on the northern side of the house. Each room had its own bathroom, but some had a joining door between the bedrooms. Sometimes there had been a guest with children that had slept in another room, so the doors were put there. Those doors were always locked and only Demele and Harry had the permission to open them and give the person asking the key.

Then there were the family bedrooms. There were only two of them, plus the Master's bedroom. The Potter family had always been quite small, so they didn't need much more space. Harry pointed out that there were still some doors unopened, and Demele told him happily that those were the rooms of almost-family members. Sirius' room was one of them and there were two more of the sort. They had been designed when James' friends had often stayed whole vacations in the Potter Manor. The last room upstairs was a lounging room. It was more or less an informal drawing room, just for family and close friends.

From a corner of the hallway Demele brought them one floor up. The staircase was hidden behind a small door, through that they went up and into the attic. It was more of an owlery, though. Harry saw two unfamiliar owls. He heard a hoot, shriller, but deeper than that of Hedwig. He turned around and saw a majestic eagle owl sitting on a perch in the shadows. Right next to it sat a smaller owl, maybe a screech owl, sleeping deeply.

"The family owls: Zeus, the eagle owl, and Hypnos, the screech owl," Demele explained. "Their parents died some years ago, but Zeus and Hypnos are still young."

Harry nodded, not wanting to disrupt the sleeping Hypnos. They went back downstairs into the drawing room. On one of the coffee tables stood two cups of tea and some biscuits, a house-elf must have known when they returned and put up this small snack.

"This is the Potter Manor, Master. Does Master Potter has any questions?" Demele told him.

"Not right now, Demele," he answered. "I'll come and find you if I have any. Thank you."

The house elf smiled and then _pop_ped away, of course after bowing. Sirius and Harry stood there, both lost in their thoughts. Harry was absorbed in his own thoughts and suddenly he felt something else be in his head… or in a place within his mind. It didn't feel quite like the pressure that was described in the book "Blood Based Spells" when someone was trying to intrude into your mind, it was more a constant throb in the back of his brain. It was cold and cruel, but Harry felt he knew it and he knew he was safe with it. He was rubbing the spot when Sirius noticed his godson being strangely quiet.

"Everything okay, Harry?"

Harry snapped out of his thoughts and it was that moment when the feeling disappeared. "Yeah… I just had the feeling someone was in my mind…"

Sirius seemed concerned. "Like reading your mind? Could you push them out?"

"It went away when you spoke to me… and I don't think it was trying to harm me."

"Shall I take a look? I can use Legilimency, a bit. You heard of it?" Harry nodded. "Good, I promise I won't go deep, I'll just look if there is anything suspicious on the outside?"

"Please do."

Harry nodded his readiness and looked his godfather in the eyes. He felt the pressure and Sirius burst through. Harry hadn't started yet with Occlumency, but he thought that maybe Sirius could help him, seeing as he could do the sister skill.

Then there was something that shocked Sirius and Harry, though not for the same reasons.

Something dark was blocking Sirius' way and it made the man quiver; he felt fear creep into his veins and search for anything painful it could show him. It was big and strong and so, so _cold_, a shield like no other he had seen or read about. It pushed him outside with brute force and left a sour taste in his mind. He came back to his senses and saw that he had collapsed on the floor. He was breathing hard. It was similar to the presence of a Dementor. The horrors of Azkaban were thrumming behind his eyes. He was fighting hard not to curl up and retreat into the furthest parts of his mind as he had so often done in the prison.

Harry though was shocked to see that there was a shield he didn't know of protecting his mind. He had seen as if standing next to it how it had pushed Sirius out. It had been strangely familiar, but Harry didn't know from where he remembered it. Then its clothing had fluttered and a corner touched Harry's knee. The memories came rushing: the dark leading him through dreamscapes and preventing him from falling into a pit of despair. He looked at it, but there was no face, just a hole where its head should be, a crown of blackness floating eerily in mid-air, its outline invisible for it didn't reflect light. Suddenly its wide, coldly glimmering wings spread and it told Harry in its dark thundering voice that he shouldn't fear anyone intruding his mind, the dark would protect him. Harry understood and thanked it.

"That was interesting," Sirius said when he had regained his footing. He still felt the urge to run as far away as possible from that black thing, though he didn't feel its presence anymore.

Harry was still absent, but when he finally snapped out of it he stared blankly at Sirius. "What was that?"

Sirius shrugged. "I have absolutely no idea. Did you find something out about it?"

"It won't hurt me, it said it would protect me."

"That's enough for me. Now, how about we drink that tea and see what we'll do the remaining time until lunch? The weather looks as if its turning and the grounds are much more beautiful when it's sunny."

Just as Sirius said that there was a soft _knock _on the window they stood in front, the sky truly seemed to darken and many thick clouds were already on their way of blocking the sun. Both heads turned to look at what was there and they were positively surprised to see the beautiful snowy owl Harry had gotten as a birthday present two years ago, Hedwig. She had a letter in her beak that looked way too formal for Harry's liking. Harry opened the glass door and let Hedwig hop in. She didn't seem fazed by the new environment, but then she had always been a bright one and this time she probably knew that this was Harry's home. She laid the letter in Harry's outstretched hand and then flew again outside, as if she had a goal in mind.

"Your owl seems to know where she's going," Sirius remarked.

Harry gave a noncommittal grunt and opened the letter. He was sure that Hedwig wouldn't bring him anything dangerous. It read:

_Dear Harry_

_Have you read today's _Daily Prophet_? If not, you'll be surprised that it states that you have taken the Potter lordship. Due to this Gran would like to have you over for a little chat… sorry, I couldn't bring her to reconsider. She said something about the Longbottoms having been allied to the Potters for a long time and she wanted to see if you'd still accept us as such. I'm really sorry this comes so fast.  
By the way, where is the Potter Manor? Gran said something that it's near to ours, but I've never seen a manor around here. I know it's probably heavily warded, but invisible? You have quite strong wards around it, it seems.  
Does your offer for a day in Diagon Alley still stand? If so, I'd like to go with you there to shop for the books needed this year. Seeing as you were already there I guess you have them… can I borrow your booklist? I seem to have lost mine…_

Here Harry chuckled. It was so Neville to lose his list and he would gladly share with the other boy and get to know him better. Not as allies, but as family. After all Neville's mum was Harry's godmother and he would like to know the family. Harry also found it strange that Neville had never mentioned his parents… maybe they could talk about that, too.

_As for the date, how about in a week? So the 20__th__ August we go to Diagon Alley. Gran said you could come over the 19__th__ and stay here for the night… you don't have to, at all, but we'd be happy if you came._

_Best regards  
Neville Longbottom,  
heir to the Longbottom family,  
signed 13__th__ of August_

"Way too formal for my taste, Neville," Harry muttered to the letter. He folded it and put it into his pocket, he would write the answer later.

"Can I ask who wrote to you?" Sirius chimed in, sitting on the couch and sipping his tea.

"Mhm, Neville Longbottom. He wrote that I'm invited over for a chat with his Gran," Harry explained and looked up at Sirius. "She said something about us being allies. I need to know how to behave by then!"

"Yes, you do. Augusta is quite stern when it comes to that, but we'll get you there, milord," Sirius said and made a mock-bow, it looked ridiculous while he sat there. "That's what we're going to do now!"

Sirius started with very basic things, such as _be polite, look the others in the eye when they speak and when you speak, when talking with your elders let them make the first move, _but then it became increasingly difficult for Harry. Seeing as the Potter family had a high standing and were one of the top pureblood families, Harry had to memorize with whom he could use which title.

"So, wait a second. I am in 'pureblood hierarchy' higher than the families Prewett, Abbot and Greengrass. This means I can address their heirs however I want, of course nothing insulting, and can use the first name of the person I'm speaking to if it's an adult and I know the name, after the title Lord or Lady?" Sirius nodded and Harry continued: "The families Selwyn, Malfoy, and Longbottom are on par with me, and you come to how I have to act around them in a moment?" Sirius nodded again. "Then all the other families are in the hierarchy higher than I am? And what about the Weasleys? They are pureblooded, too, I guessed. Do they stand higher? Oh Merlin, what have I done?"

"Calm down." Sirius laughed at the antics of his godson, Harry was working himself awfully stressed. "The rest aren't higher than you and I oversimplified the whole thing, I just didn't bombard you with all the names. The Weasleys are seldom counted in listings, since they've been labelled as blood-traitors for who-knows-how-long, but as you're friends with them… I guess they would rank lower than you. The only ones considered higher are the Blacks, of which I am the last male with the surname, but not the last male with Black-blood. Then there are the founders' families, but they should hardly concern you, since no one has claimed any of those lordships and wizarding public isn't aware of any heir, except for Voldemort being Salazar Slytherin's heir?" It was Harry's turn to nod. "And he's not considered nor does the public know, because of obvious reasons, plus he's declared dead. The other higher ranking family being Peverell, as they are older than any other, but those have died out too," Sirius said.

"Oh, I get that lordship, too, once I'm of age and if I claim it," Harry mentioned.

Sirius looked surprised at him, James hadn't told him of this. "Well, that makes you equal to any family out there. I don't know about the founders, but to anyone else you're equal or higher. Though I don't know why the Potter family wouldn't have taken that lordship long ago…"

Harry just shrugged and this prompted Sirius to continue with his explanations. "Well, you should know first that with equal standing families it is a bit tricky, especially for you. If an elder of such a family talks to you, you'll have to show respect as if it was a higher ranking family. The tricky part here is, that the Potters are currently not considered very high standing, because there is no one who could claim any seats. But since you've taken the title Head of House and have claimed the Potter lordship, though, they have to treat you equally, although many won't because you're underage. Their children are another story, though…"

Harry listened closely how he had to behave around those. It was a bit different to the lower ranking families and it was only confusing Harry. He was supposed to shake hands with all of them, but never if the person he would be shaking with was older (or ranked higher) and didn't make the first step. Though with their children he should shake hands too and there Harry had to interrupt Sirius' monologue.

"What if I decline to shake hands?"

"Why would you do that? That would mean as much as you don't recognize the person as your equal and that he has to prove his intentions before you're even thinking about accepting his, er, friendship. Did you do that to someone?"

Harry gulped. "Yes, on my first train ride to Hogwarts. Malfoy wanted to offer his so-called friendship by shaking hands and I declined…"

"That's not entirely bad, though. As he is heir to the Malfoy name he should have been able to see that you haven't claimed anything, so you didn't directly insult him. Though that may be a reason he hates you," Sirius said, grinning. "Had you done that knowing what it meant, it would be a different story altogether. Same goes for any heir you may have insulted unknowingly. An heir can feel through the heir ring if the other person has one, too. This though didn't stop them from being offended, they probably thought you knew everything, but haven't claimed anything. Plus, some families don't let their heirs get the ring until they're of age, don't ask me why."

Harry sighed partly relieved. This was good, because had those things he'd said and done the last two years actually been his portrayal of his family name, he would want to be swallowed into the ground, _now_. He knew though, that he'd had his chances with the Slytherins, they took behaviour awfully serious. Sirius proceeded teaching him what was expected of him, until an elf _pop_ped into the room to announce that lunch was ready.

The wizards went into the kitchen, saying that the large dining room wasn't necessary for only two of them and the elves complied. The food was delicious and Harry thought that his house-elves could easily enough give whomever cooked in Hogwarts a run for his money. When he thought about it he didn't really know who did all the chores that surely such a huge castle produced. He decided he'd ask Sirius once they finished.

* * *

They had gone back to the drawing room and just settled down when the first thunder rolled over the house. Soon enough the rain was falling hard and one couldn't see further than some steps. It was the perfect moment to do something productive.

"Sirius? Who does all the work in Hogwarts?" Harry continued on his former thought.

Sirius looked up from his musings and turned his head away from the window. "House-elves. I guess that was mentioned in some book." He chuckled. "You aren't the bookish one, are you?" Harry laughed and declined.

"You're in third year this year, right? What electives have you taken?"

Seeing that an adult was actually interested in what he did in school was a whole new experience for Harry and, to be honest, he rather liked the attention he got from his godfather.

"Care of Magical Creatures and Divination," he said.

"Divination? Surely not?" Sirius asked surprised. Had any of his parents or ancestors had the Gift?

"I did, with Ron." He didn't need to explain who Ron was, Sirius knew from his stories. "We didn't really give it much thought, though."

At that Sirius laughed. "I guess so, because Divination can't be learnt. Either you are a seer or you aren't. If you allow me to propose something, I'd much rather you take Ancient Runes or Arithmancy. They can be used, whereas Divination is, sorry, useless."

Harry really didn't know that to predict the future can't be learnt and he had the distinctive feeling that he couldn't predict to save his life. He leant back into the couch, from the corner of his eye he saw movement in one frame, hanging inconspicuously next to the fireplace and then he heard his mother's voice.

"Sirius is right. I took Arithmancy and Runes, your father did Muggle Studies and Runes. I bet that if you want and ask nicely, McGonagall will change your electives," she said. His father nodded from her side, although he wasn't completely in the frame yet.

"Absolutely. Lilyflower here was the best when it came to Arithmancy, Sirius didn't stand a chance against Lily," James then joined in, laughing at Sirius' flustered expression. "There are some books on both in the library. You can take a look and decide then."

Harry nodded and thanked his parents. He went out and searched the library for a while, then he found the door with runic inscriptions and opened the door. He walked to a portrait of an ancestor, who sat upon a throne of books. That seemed to be the librarian, Harry thought with a chuckle. The man enthusiastically gave him directions and seemed happy that he could show the heir his way through the library. Harry thanked Ian, the Potter bookworm (the only in hundred and fifty years to be a Ravenclaw) and painted librarian, and then went to get the books.

When he came back Sirius was talking with his parents and nursing a cup of tea, a second cup stood on the coffee table. Harry grinned and then opened the book on Arithmancy.

He didn't understand a word what was written and it was a beginner's book. He did get that the numerology could be used for different things, prediction for example, but then the details… he was hopelessly lost. Harry hoped to have more luck with Runes. And truly, he did have more luck there. It seemed so wonderfully easy for Harry. It was more linking power (the runes) with your will than anything else. Harry somehow just saw how those runes would give most of their power possible. He rather quickly decided to take this instead of Divination.

"Look at that, something you've got from both of us," James laughed from his place in the picture when Harry told them his decision. "Padfoot, don't you think he's brilliant?" he cooed then to Sirius.

"I agree, Prongsie dearest," Sirius laughed. "Then I suggest you write dear Minnie a letter, she isn't too fond of Divination either; she'll let you drop the class."

"But don't write _for Minnie _she won't do anything, and she'll know from whom you got such an idea," Lily said to him, while she looked disapprovingly at James and Sirius, well, as disapproving as her painted eyes could.

Harry grinned at his parents' and godfather's antics, but did as Sirius said, while he tried hard not to blush from what his father and Sirius had said (his father was still going on about how wonderful he was… this didn't absolutely correspond with the image Harry had of his father), not really knowing if they were serious.

He went back into the library to fetch a bit of parchment, a quill and ink. There was that wonderful cupboard filled with all he needed. He was soon back in the drawing room writing his letter to Professor McGonagall. Sirius was reading over his shoulder what he wrote and gave here and there a tip to how he should put the words, as to make it near impossible to turn his request down. At the end Harry had written nearly seven inches worth of parchment to ask if he could please change his electives. Divination should go and Ancient Runes should be in its stead. He sealed the letter and went up to the attic. Harry clearly wasn't used to having house-elves, it didn't even cross his mind that he could say to any of his four elves that the letter needed to be sent.

There on a beautiful perch sat his wonderful snowy owl, who hooted softly when Harry came up and flew over to him. Harry gave her the letter and said to whom it was, Hedwig looked at him as if she'd known that already and then took off. She flew through a window – only that there wasn't a pane – and left. Harry noticed that it was quite warm inside and the rain couldn't enter, there had to be some one-way charm instead of a window pane.

He went back to the drawing room, where he went to answer Neville's letter. He had to ask Sirius how to word it so when Lady Longbottom read it, she would see that Harry took her offer of a chat serious and also their relationship as allies. In the end he was quite happy, it was not so long as the letter to McGonagall – that may be because Sirius had influenced Harry more in that first letter, not that Harry knew – but very formal without being cold.

Again Harry went to the attic/owlery. He looked at Zeus and decided to use him, Hedwig being on her way to Hogwarts and for formal reasons the eagle-owl may be better suited.

"Zeus, come here," he called the owl. "I have a letter for you for Lady Longbottom."

The eagle-owl looked at him, but then came flying over to him. Zeus was big, Harry noticed, really big and blackish brown. He stood in front of a dark screen, and then the owl took the letter in its beak and flew off, with lazy, slow and big movements of his wings.

* * *

Harry went back downstairs and listened to stories of his parents they themselves or Sirius told, when the paintings hadn't been given the story to give on. Time for dinner came surprisingly early and they ate again a wonderful meal, what Harry pointed out to his elves and he saw with delight how the elves were proud of themselves.

After dinner Harry decided to go into the lounge room upstairs and Sirius came with him. His parents had their original portrait there; something Harry had missed on his earlier house-tour. A fire flickered in the fireside, its crackling harmonising with the patter of the rain and the warmth creeping around them. Sirius sat in an armchair, nursing a glass of Firewhiskey (he had even asked Harry if he could take one) and looking into the flames. He looked old and haunted, but his eyes now shone with a newfound strength.

"I'll go to bed… it's starting again," Sirius said sighing, gulped his whiskey down and left the room.

Before Harry could ask what exactly had started again, he had left the room and closed the door. Shrugging Harry turned back to the fire. His parents were quietly watching him, conversing in that way only a married couple could. The flames were happily dancing and Harry wasn't tired at all, so he decided to call Demele. Not much later he was half lying in the couch, reading the book on family spells. When he groaned after reading for quite the while, his father looked up.

"Is that about family magic?" James asked.

Harry nodded. "Yes, it is. It tells more about how to protect the mind as far as I have read. Though I hardly know anything about family magic."

Harry smiled sadly, but was surprised to see his father having left the frame. Lily still stood in it and was grinning. "What is it?"

"Oh, I think your father just went to ask for permission to give you a briefing in Potter family magic," she said. "And here he is, I'll take my leave then. I'm not a Potter by birth and they're adamant about only letting the family know. Sleep well, Harry."

"Thank you, mum," he answered and watched her leave the frame. It struck him as odd that she had to leave the painting, after all she wouldn't be able to tell any secrets…

"Sorry for leaving you, son," James then said, appearing out of nowhere. "We've always been awfully secretive of our family magic. No one who's not born a Potter has ever learnt it or heard of it, even if we're pictures… do you know what family magic is?"

"I think it's a type of magic that only one family can do. Somehow the blood of the family is suited to it, or something…"

"Exactly. That's usually a reason for those stuck up purebloods to intermarry. It keeps the magic stronger, but Muggleborns usually bring a new strength with them and that's not widely known," James elaborated. He was rubbing his chin and eyeing his son up. "Well, and the Potters have been able to keep the magic so secret, that no one outside the family knows. There are some other families, who have succeeded in the same, but most people know what kind of magic they are marrying into."

"Why is it so important to even keep the sort of magic unknown?" Harry asked. Wouldn't that jeopardise their position?

"Because the Potters'," James began. He looked around and when he was sure no one was hearing he finished: "magic is warding. There are no wards, except maybe those around Hogwarts that a Potter is not able to strengthen or weaken. Potter manor is still in lockdown, which is the reason no one is able to see it, even though you're here. You will have to take control of the wards before anyone else can enter."

Harry nodded. If the family magic was that strong he saw the need in protecting it. "What does it mean that the manor is in lockdown?"

"Actually it means that no one is able to enter, except a Potter. You had luck with Sirius, because he's keyed into the wards from before. Anyone else would have ended up in St. Mungo's," James said, smiling lightly.

"Can someone teach me the warding?"

"Yes, your grandfather will do. His portrait hangs in the warding room that is one of the rooms the wish-room can become. The reason we have to keep it secret, is because warding can be learnt and the Potter wards can be made by people, who aren't Potters. It will make them weaker, but the family magic will lose some of its strength," James told him. As he watched Harry he saw that the young wizard was growing tired, but was still attentive. He decided it would be best, if Harry slept and concerned himself with the family secrets at another time. "Now, we can talk later about it. You've had quite a long day and I believe you're tired."

Harry made to protest, but when he saw his father's amused look – clearly from remembering being told the same thing by his parents and refuting their claim – he thought it best to comply.

"I did," Harry said smiling. "I hope you're going to tell me much more! Good night, dad."

"Good night, Harry."

It really was late as the clock on Harry's bedside table showed. It was almost midnight when Harry looked the last time, before he turned over and fell asleep. _Dreaming, once again._

* * *

_It fluttered. The dark was excited, somehow. He saw it across from him. The figure with its lightless crown on a non-existent head. It reached out for him, its hand skeletal, black fume swirling around it. He took the hand. That was the moment, when the dreamscape changed. It became organized. The bottomless pit was still there, ominously looming underneath the pinnacle where he stood upon. The dark floating next to him._

_The full moon glowed on a side, the reddish black castle of rock stood also there. Then he saw many new places. There was a swamp, eerie green smoke around it, beckoning him to stay out but call other people in. Then there was an orb, much like the one with the prophecy, where different coloured light bouncing merrily in it. He feared it, or the dark feared it, he wasn't so sure. The lights were dangerous, he knew it. The dark asked him, if he wanted to go there. He said he did, even though he knew he shouldn't. The dark took him there and the orb dulled, the lights moved slower. He knew there was something strange about it, but couldn't point his finger on it._

_"It's okay. I'll go now," he told the dark and it brought him to the end of the dream._


	8. Allies and The Fourth Dream

Hello there, it's been a while.

Thank you all for your continued support! It's nice to write when I know there are some people who like to read what I produce :D

I'm sorry for the delay, but school got in the way and I was stuck on the chapter, though I hope you all like it :)

A/N1: I hope you understand my pure-blood customs. They are somehow very hard to make, because I can't just invent something, it has to make sense when used in everyday life... urgh.  
A/N2: The name 'Requis' is said as if it was French (and had an accent aigu on the 'e'), so it sounds 'REki' with a soft 'k'.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter and neither do I make any money off of this.

RedMamba

(p.s. I made some small changes in chapters 5 and 6, nothing big. I simply changed the Weasleys arrival date to the 31st of August, not the 25th. Now the time line is canon compliant.)

* * *

Harry awoke before the sun was up. He had the distinct feeling that he had been dreaming, but he couldn't say what it had been about. Knowing himself, he wouldn't get back to sleep, Harry took a shower and dressed, then read a little in the book for untraceable spells, waiting for the sun to rise. He went downstairs into the kitchen, looking for any of the elves. A male was standing at the counter, cooking breakfast. The elf turned around to Harry.

"Does Master Potter want breakfast? It is still very early," the elf said.

"Yes, please. You were Requis, weren't you?" Harry asked the elf and sat by the table, watching the small creature speed up the cooking of a breakfast and make the portion bigger. It seemed he had been doing the breakfast for the elves.

The house-elf turned around to him and bowed low. "Master Potter remembers name of Requis! Requis is honoured! Does Master Potter want anything special to eat?"

Seeing his elf bounce around happily gave Harry a warm feeling. He kind of liked the small beings, which were so concerned with his well-being. Memories of how desperate Dobby was invaded his mind and he suddenly wasn't so sure if he could ask his elf do whatever he wanted. Was he forcing the elf to do something? Or was it of the elf's own accord? Grown up around Muggles was influencing him. House-elves were the slaves of wizardkind, weren't they?

"If it isn't a burden, could you do some sausages for me?" Harry asked kindly. Asking never hurt, right?

Requis looked affronted that his master would think of being a burden. He vigorously shook his head and said: "Requis is happy to make breakfast for Master! Master Potter could never be a burden!"

After having heard most of his life that he indeed was nothing else but a burden and a freak Harry was indefinitely grateful for his elf. Harry let his thoughts wander and soon felt he needed to voice one of them.

"Are there some orders placed on you, you don't want? On any of you four?" he said. Harry hadn't seen the other three elves yet. "Oh, and please eat if you haven't yet. I guess you were cooking for yourselves before I came down."

"Requis has no order Requis doesn't want… the others do not have either. We Potter elves like this place very much!" he told him, enthusiastically waving his thin arms around and his ears were shaking happily, much like a dog's tail would. "We elves will eat after Master Potter!"

Harry pondered on that, he still wanted to know what kind of orders the elves acted upon. Though before he could ask anymore, the elf put a plate in front of him. It looked and smelled heavenly. Harry thanked his elf and dug in. Only moments later a still in his pyjamas and unkempt Sirius Black stumbled haphazardly into the kitchen.

"Smells good," he simply said and collapsed in a chair. Sirius looked as if he had slept badly and seemed out of it, Harry poked him in the side and got no reaction.

"Sirius?"

Now the man reacted. Sirius opened his eyes and sat straight, as if he had seen a ghost – he hadn't, there were no ghosts in Potter Manor – and looked at Harry. He had been sleeping in the chair. "Good morning, kiddo."

Requis put a plate in front of Sirius, too. The elf looked at him disapprovingly, but didn't say anything and went back to the counter, he had still to do the clean-up of the cooking and whip up a breakfast for the elves. Harry grinned at his godfather, seeing as he was now back full-alert. Harry guessed this would have been a moment for Demele's pan. Though he was concerned, why wouldn't Sirius stay in bed if he was so tired?

He wanted to say something to the older wizard, but something in Sirius' eyes told him not to ask anything, Harry settled for a "good morning" himself. They ate in companionable silence and once finished, Harry brought the dishes to Requis, who still was in the kitchen. The elf looked surprised at Harry.

"Is something wrong, Requis?"

Requis shook his head. "Is Master Potter needing anything else? Or Mister Black?"

Harry turned around to Sirius, only to receive a negative, and faced then his elf again. "No, thank you. But would you answer some of my questions?"

"Requis will if Requis can!"

Harry smiled. "Well, I asked you about unwanted orders. I don't actually know any of your orders, could you tell me?"

"We Potter elves have three orders. First is to never lie to member of Potter family. Second is to protect secrets we have heard. Some bad wizards can read minds of elves, but not us Potter elves' minds! Third is to dress into these outfits, because we are part of Potter household and Potter household is most noble. Dirty servants are no-good." Requis was looking proud and expectant. He was hoping that this answer would be enough for his master. It was, though Harry had to suppress a chuckle at the clothing order, he guessed that whoever had given that order had to say exactly those words about dirty servants to get them into clothes. It worked, they looked clean and healthy.

"Thank you, Requis," Harry said, the elf went back to work. Suddenly in Harry's mind popped a thought, he needed to make sure of. He wasn't so sure about how he would voice it, though.

"Requis… I kind of have a request to make of you. Actually of all of you elves…," Harry began, but was stopped when three elves appeared with a _crack_. All four of them looked at him, waiting for what could not be anything else but an order. "I need you to not let anyone in here, no matter if he is keyed into the wards or if he threatens to take them down, except if I have said they can come or have keyed them into the wards. Can you do that for me?"

The elves nodded. With further _crack_s three of them disappeared again to do whatever they did. Harry sighed and looked at Sirius, who was watching him intently. He averted his gaze when Harry raised an eyebrow in question.

"Well, what would you like to do today?"

* * *

It came that they would go into a sort of routine for the following four and a half days until Harry went to the Longbottoms. In the mornings Sirius would teach Harry how to behave pure-blooded and then they would go into the wish-room to train. Sirius taught Harry several useful spells he should have learnt anyway and drilled him in accuracy. He also made a point in teaching Harry something like strategies and made some easy physical exercises.

On the first training Sirius had said to Harry: "Why erect a shield when you can dodge?" It was a simple question and the answer was even simpler, though Harry didn't find it at first: "Dodge, it doesn't need as much energy as a shield." Thus it came that Harry was dodging jinxes the duelling mannequins sent out, until he deactivated them in one hit. The room could not be found, so Harry didn't need to worry about his trace.

In the afternoons Harry would often read something in the library with Sirius or he would listen to some Potter ancestors explain their family magic. Sirius had understood the need for secrecy and was usually reading or in the wish-room doing who-knows-what when Harry disappeared into the lounge room upstairs. On the single beautiful day they had played Quidditch one on one and Harry had realized that the only position he was any good at was Seeker. There he had won every time, but as Keeper or Chaser he was utter rubbish. Sirius had told him he had played Beater, but in fear of injuries (or rather a frying pan wielding house-elf) they had refrained from using the Bludgers.

After their dinner they would usually sit in the lounge room and talk together, but Sirius often mumbled something like he had on their first evening and left to sleep. Harry also used this time to read in the book 'Untraceable Spells', but had yet to test it out as he would rather not have a warning from the ministry – again – and possibly be kicked out of Hogwarts.

On the evening of the eighteenth Hedwig arrived from Hogwarts, where she had patiently waited for McGonagall to answer Harry's letter. She sat proudly on the back of a chair in the drawing room and waited for Harry to untie the letter. She hooted softly and then flew upstairs to the two other owls. Zeus had arrived three days prior with a portkey to the Longbottom house. Sirius had explained what the piece of paper was that would bring him to Neville and Harry had wondered why he hadn't heard of it ever before.

The letter said what Lily had prophesized and Harry was allowed to change his electives. With the letter also came a new booklist, as he needed now different books. He grinned at Sirius and both went upstairs. Harry still needed to grab a few things he needed for the visit tomorrow and Sirius quizzed him for how he should behave in which situation. Happy with what he had managed to learn Harry went to bed early and wished his godfather a good night's sleep.

It was early on the nineteenth August when Harry Potter awoke. He showered and then dressed in his formal robes, the forest green set was packed, and went downstairs for breakfast. He was surprised to find Sirius already sitting there, nursing a cup of tea and reading the _Daily Prophet _he had somehow managed to subscribe to. In reality Harry had subscribed to the newspaper, but as he didn't particularly like it, he left the reading of it to Sirius.

"Looks like they haven't found Black yet," Harry said jokingly when he sat down and took a cup of tea himself. The headlines were still going on about how dangerous Sirius was, strange when Harry saw the man live in front of him.

Sirius nodded slowly, but grinned mischievously. "The ministry is highly inefficient. To think they would let a raving madman run around for such a long time! I, of course, had long ago done something about him."

Harry laughed and they ate their breakfast talking about anything under the sun. The time for Harry to leave came fast and he looked sadly at Sirius, but then he saw the challenging glint in his eyes. Harry decided to take this test very seriously.

"I am terribly sorry that I cannot stay in your delighful company and am such a bad host for you, Lord Black," Harry said, putting up his best pure-blood performance as he spoke to someone of a higher standing. "The house is completely yours until my return tomorrow evening, I guess. Please, make yourself at home."

"Very well, Lord Potter, I accept your apology," Sirius said, then he continued much more relaxed. "Well done, Harry, it still was a bit exaggerated and really, me? 'Delighting company?' , but that's okay. Though you won't need to go to such lengths with Lady Longbottom, she isn't particularly fond of exaggerations. I hope you enjoy your stay there and the trip tomorrow."

"I will! Though I have no idea how Lady Longbottom wants to breach this subject…" Harry wondered. He bid Sirius goodbye and took the scrap of paper when it started to glimmer blue. He saw Sirius wave and then he felt a tug behind his navel.

* * *

Before he knew it he was standing wobbly in the front lawn of a beautiful house. What only could be the Longbottom family crest adorned the wall over the entrance and he saw greenhouses peeking out from behind the house. It was a two storey house with a tower he suspected was something like an owlery on its right side, the walls were a nice cream colour.

Harry decided to take a few steps towards the house, when the door opened and a regal looking elder woman came outside. Her grey hair was bound to a bun and she was wearing the formal robes of a Lady. It was unmistakably Lady Augusta Longbottom, Neville's grandmother and current Head of House Longbottom.

Harry came to a halt in front of her and made a courteous bow. He had learnt that even though the elder should take the first step of the greeting, the younger party needed to express their respect first, no matter their standing.

"Lord Potter, how nice that you could come on this short notice," Lady Longbottom said and inclined her head, which was Harry's cue to stand.

"It is my pleasure, Lady Longbottom. Thank you for having me," he answered, smiling.

Augusta was surprised to say the least. Neville had told her that Harry most probably didn't know of anything concerning right behaviour or his social standing, which she had also seen when they had encountered Harry in front of the ministry, hence she didn't expect him to be this socially versed. She bid him to come in and was surprised to see that he only looked at her, as was custom. Normally one would look around the house and wonder, but in pure-blood families you gave your full attention to the person speaking to you, not their house. Harry behaved like a pure-blood lord should in these small things, and it impressed Lady Longbottom.

"Lord Potter, our house-elf Tinky will take your luggage to your guest room, is that agreeable with you?" Augusta looked at him and the _pop _of the house-elf apparating didn't disturb her at all, she was still unsure if what she was doing was the right thing for her house.

Again Harry didn't let her down. "Yes, that would be very much appreciated, Lady Longbottom."

The elf took his trunk and _pop_ped away. Augusta nodded her head and led Harry to their drawing room, indicating different rooms when they walked past them. Only now Harry could really look at the house, it was something he remembered Sirius telling him. When they stepped into the drawing room, Neville was also there, sitting in a comfortable armchair and reading a book on plants.

Neville looked up and seemed as if he was now going to greet Harry as friends, but then he saw his attire and reconsidered. He stood up, placed the book on the coffee table and went to Harry.

"Welcome in our home, Lord Potter," he said, smiling widely. His grandmother was pleased with how fast he had understood what he needed to say. "Can I show him around once you have finished, grandmother?"

"Of course you can, Neville, if Lord Potter is willing," Augusta answered, then looked at Harry.

He smiled and inclined his head. "I would be delighted. Although I had not thought for Heir Longbottom not to attend our meeting, Lady Longbottom."

Both Longbottoms were gobsmacked at how well Harry was handling this and his quite well placed request for Neville to sit through their talk, too. Like this it would seem as if it had been the Head of House Longbottom who decided, but she could hardly decide against Harry's suggestion. She smiled brightly, it would seem that she had done the right thing in inviting the young Lord Potter over.

"I see, Lord Potter. Neville, if you would like to join us?"

Neville was still a bit too surprised to react immediately, but he gathered himself quickly. It was quite rare that an heir would sit in on something two Head of Houses would talk about and it surprised him even more that Harry had known how to word his request. Even more it surprised him that his grandma was asking him if he wanted to stay.

"Thank you very much, Lord Potter, grandmother. I would like to join in your conversation," he said, careful to not accidentally address Harry with his given name.

All three took a seat around the coffee table, from which Neville took the book and gave it to the second elf to bring away. The elf had come to bring them tea and biscuits, which now stood on the table and looked very delicious. Now it was on Lady Longbottom to start their discussion, as it was per her request that Harry came.

"Lord Potter, you certainly have gathered of the letter my grandson sent you that both our houses have been allied in the past. As you have taken the lordship of your house, I would like to propose an alliance alike those in the past between our houses." She eyed Harry carefully for any sign of insecurity and hoped she didn't have to explain the last alliance that stood between their houses. It had been made by her son and Harry's father when they finished school. It was not something she wanted to revive just yet, even though it had been twelve years now the pain was still there.

Harry meanwhile had similar thoughts. He had wondered briefly why Sirius had never said anything about Neville's parents and had again thought about them, for the house showed no sign of them living here. He was trying hard to not show how uncomfortable he was with this whole situation; of course he had had training in etiquette, but he didn't know how to accept this offer. He also suppressed his chuckle at how forward Lady Longbottom was with the subject, purely Gryffindor he suspected.

"I am aware of our houses being allied and I hope it will not stay a thing in the past," he tried. It wasn't that elegant, but he thought it was acceptable. "I would very much like for our houses to be allied once more, Lady Longbottom. Even though mine is currently very small."

At this Augusta actually chuckled a bit, he was absolutely right of course. The House Potter was at the moment just one person and if he understood as much of pure-blood politics as his behaviour let on, he needed allies. She then smiled a sad smile, also knowing that his house was very small because of tragedies that had ripped a much respected house from them all and cherished friends with it.

"Then I would like for us to be allied, Lord Potter. As you see the House Longbottom is small itself and we have always been more friends than allies with your house, Lord Potter," Augusta said. She saw apprehension flicker in Harry's eyes and was happy to see that he understood what she hadn't said.

Neville meanwhile had watched their interaction closely and was awed at how easily Harry could talk to his grandma in this formal way. He made a mental note to ask who had taught him later. His grandma's last comment made him pick up his ears and he understood even before Harry that Lady Augusta Longbottom, on her part a well-respected if not feared woman, had just accepted Harry as not only an ally, but also respected him in a way she had long since respected no one. That she subtly told him that Neville's parents had faced a fate similar to Harry's parents didn't matter, Neville thought he would tell him later.

"Then, Lady Longbottom, I would boldly suggest that once this matter is sorted you call me by my first name," Harry said. Even though what he had said was informal his tone of voice was still very polite.

Neville was a bit shocked, no one had talked like that to his grandma on official business in his hearing and he feared Harry may just have stepped over a line, but then gran laughed and said: "Of course, Lord Potter."

Both drew their wands as was needed to form an alliance between two families. At his grandmother's prompting Neville also drew his. Harry now was on absolutely new territory, this didn't go under 'pure-blood etiquette' and he had no idea what he should do now. However, this decision was made for him when he felt his magic pulse through his wand. It reminded him of how the dagger in Gringotts had told him what to say.

"Hereby I, current Head of House Longbottom and Lady Longbottom by marriage and by will, promise upon my magic to ally myself and my family to the House Potter."

A thread of magic shot out of her wand and attached itself to her heart, confirming that she truly wished for this to happen. Traditionally it would now be Harry's turn, but the magic made Neville go next.

"Hereby I, next Head of House Longbottom and Heir Longbottom, promise upon my honour to be a friend and ally to the current Head of House Potter."

A thread of magic shot this time from his wand and coiled itself around Neville. When the title was inherited magic didn't want clarification, but in other cases it did. It was Harry's turn.

"Hereby I, current Head of House Potter and Lord Potter, promise upon my magic and honour to ally myself and my family to the House Longbottom and further be a friend to House Longbottom."

Harry's thread of magic attached itself to his heart and then coiled around him. From all three threads one end floated to the wrists of the person they had allied themselves to. Harry's thread coiled around Lady Longbottom's wrist and pulsed there. A second thread split halfway from Augusta and coiled itself around Neville's wrist, where it moved peacefully back and forth. The threads trembled and as one the three people said:

"So mote it be."

And the threads disappeared. For a moment the three were quiet as they felt the residuary magic of the binding words subside. It was not an oath, it was more feelings that the magic conveyed through this ritual. It was a pleasantly warm sensation and Harry felt a strange kind of pride. Maybe, just maybe this was something that would make his family take pride and he was positively giddy with the thought.

"Thank you very much, Harry. It means much to us that you take this seriously," Lady Longbottom said, her smile benign. "I take it you two wanted to do something? The house-elves will call when lunch is ready."

Harry grinned and stood up when Lady Longbottom and Neville did. "Can you show me the greenhouses, Neville? They looked impressive from the outside…"

At this Neville's face lighted up and he was practically begging his grandmother to let them go without saying anything. At her nod he left with Harry in tow for the big glass buildings.

"Harry… maybe you want to change your clothes. We won't be doing anything, but there are some plants that may be hostile or fling something at you," Neville said just before he opened the door to the garden.

"It's okay. The robes can be washed, can't they? And I'm sure when I'm with you no plant will dare to attack me, they love you," Harry laughed and was impossibly glad that he didn't need to say to his friend that he could use his given name. That would have done a perfectly awkward conversation.

Neville flushed bright red at that and stammered something about Harry teasing him, but Harry was having none of it. "Neville, you're great with plants, even I can see that. Probably most of the students see that, once they've seen you in the greenhouses. For all the points you get in Herbology you're evening all my losses in Potions."

At that Neville laughed and teased Harry in earnest: "Oh, I guess even with Hermione's and my points combined those losses can't be evened."

They continued to laugh as they walked to the greenhouses in the backyard. Once they arrived Harry saw that most of the plants were blossoming in the most wonderful colours he could imagine. Neville showed him around and came to a halt in front of a plant he was very proud of. It was a very beautifully blooming rosebush with a single flower, but upon closer view it wasn't a rose at all. The flower was of a shimmering gold and its petals resembled feathers, its stem was a sombre dark green, devoid of any leaves or thorns, ruling the rose out. The flower grew up from a bush beneath it, all in the same dark green.

Even for Harry's eyes the flower was breath-taking in its beauty and simplicity. "Neville, what is that plant?"

"It's a Maat-flower. A judging flower," Neville said proudly. "If it blooms then it does so only once in a lifetime. It's said that its petals can cure anything short of death. It's seldom cultivated, because even though it can heal, it will judge you before it heals you. If you eat it and it thinks you shouldn't be healed, it won't."

Harry nodded still awestruck. "You said it blooms only once. Here we have the perfect example of how well you do with plants. Can I touch it? It looks as if it's soft."

"But be careful when you touch it, it's sensitive. Thank you, Harry. I haven't shown this to anyone yet, it's not that much compared to what others do," Neville said, recoiling from the compliment as he did often.

"Seriously? I'm the first?" Harry said, thinking it best not going into depth about Neville's insecurity, yet. "I'm honoured. Though I won't touch it, I guess I'll somehow destroy it. It's wonderful. How come it can judge you?"

"Yes, not even Gran has seen her yet," Neville admitted shyly. "I don't know how she judges and I honestly don't want to find out."

"Her?" Harry retorted, grinning. "Has she got a name?"

Neville blushed bright red at his slip, but Harry reassured him that he was only teasing. "Maat, like the ancient Egyptian goddess the flower takes her name from. The Egyptian goddess judged the people going to the netherworld with a feather and scales, that's where the name comes from. I'm happy you didn't laugh at her, Harry. It means a lot, thank you."

"Why would I ever laugh at something you obviously have a talent for? I'm trying to tell you that it's unbelievably impressive that you made it bloom. You told it does so once and only if you're lucky. Neville, this wasn't luck, this flower blossoms because it loves you," Harry tried once more.

Neville seemed to gather some self-confidence from that and looked positively happy. He turned to lead Harry back through another way between the flowerbeds, but in the middle they were intercepted by a house-elf telling them that lunch was being served in the dining room within ten minutes. They thanked the elf and went back to the house.

Once they were seated at the dining table Lady Longbottom excused her brother-in-law Algie for his absence, he was on some kind of expedition in the forests of Germany. Neville asked if he had found any interesting plants and admitted embarrassedly that his great-uncle also had a knack for plants. They talked enthusiastically about anything they were interested in and school, or rather Augusta asked many questions about their schoolwork, even though she knew much of what happened in Hogwarts. They had a prime time discussing their two Defence against the Dark Arts professors, of which Lady Longbottom wasn't a fan herself.

When the table was cleared Lady Longbottom excused herself for a short nap and wished the boys a fun afternoon, she would be doing some paperwork when she woke up. Neville and Harry promised to have fun and watched her climb up the stairs to the second storey.

"Well, what do you want to do?" Neville asked Harry then. He hadn't had a friend over for quite the time and wasn't sure what to do now.

Harry had the same problems, he had only ever visited the Weasleys. "Let's walk around the grounds, they look nice. And maybe we stumble across something we find interesting."

Neville agreed and they soon were out again, walking in the warm afternoon sun. A cool breeze blew across the huge garden and diluted the heat. They talked about how much worse the DADA professor could get, but had difficulties believing anything could be worse than Lockhart. So they instead speculated on how the new teacher may be. From the booklist they saw that it may well be someone who for once understood the subject. And before they knew it, evening had come and again an elf told them that dinner would be served in a short time.

Dinner was a relaxed affair, because Neville and Harry were still in such good spirits that Lady Longbottom herself laughed several times with them. The food was heavenly and Harry started to suspect that all house-elves were master chefs. He thanked the two Longbottom elves, who came to clear the table, and surprised the two residing pure-bloods anew. It was this moment when Neville remembered that he actually forgot to ask who had taught Harry the customs.

"Harry, who taught you all our customs? Sorry, but I'm quite sure you didn't know half of what you showed today last year," Neville said.

It didn't really surprise Harry, he had expected this question to come, after all Neville knew him from school and also his impossible behaviours there. He leaned back and pretended to take a sip of his pumpkin juice, while he desperately searched for a satisfying answer which didn't include one Sirius Black.

"I have some rather fussy portraits of ancestors hanging in the manor. Either they are nagging about something I did wrong or I read it in some book they told me the title of. It's weird how much I didn't know. If Hogwarts would give a course in how wizard customs are, I think it would help some students. I don't mean only Muggleborn ones, but also some who are really interested," Harry told and was sure he had brought some valid points – he actually had thought of a wizard custom course in school – and that he had diverted their thoughts on him to something completely different.

Augusta nodded, Harry's points making sense to her. "I actually think this is a very good idea, Harry. Maybe I could suggest such a thing in the Wizengamot the next time we have a meeting. So, boys, we have talked quite long and you still want to go to Diagon Alley tomorrow, yes? Then I would say you go to bed and go out early tomorrow, it promised to be awfully hot and Diagon Alley isn't as enjoyable hot as it would be cooler."

"Good night, Gran," Neville said and kissed her on the cheek. He stood to the doorframe and waited for Harry, who also bid his goodnight to Lady Longbottom and then followed Neville upstairs.

Neville brought him upstairs where an elf was waiting to bring Harry to his room. They wished goodnight and agreed to go around ten o'clock the next morning to Diagon Alley, hopefully before it became too hot to be there. They thought about eating there, too, but let that be a decision for the next day. It had been a rather eventful day and the binding magic had tired them, although they only now really felt it.

"Good night, Harry." Neville smiled tiredly and trudged to his room on the other side of the house.

"Good night then, Neville," Harry said and went to follow the elf, who led him to a luxurious guestroom, where his trunk lay in front of his big bed.

Soon after Harry was equally asleep as Neville, only Augusta was still downstairs, pondering if she should have told Harry that the escaped murderer was his godfather. She shook her head and hoped that the ministry would soon recapture Black, in this way much pain would be spared Harry. She, too, was asleep within the hour.

* * *

The next morning saw Harry busy gathering his belongings he had somehow been able to scramble across the room. He actually only searched for a pouch he could put his schoolbooks into and the wallet in which he had placed the booklist. Both were somewhere in his trunk, but in his brilliancy he had put them to the bottom of the trunk, below the clothes and second shoes. Once he found the two items, he took a shower and dressed in the casual green robes, putting the formal robes into the trunk along with the matched shoes. As he closed the lid of the trunk he looked around the room once more, watching out for any missed objects, one never could be too sure. He saw nothing, but marvelled again at the beautiful simplicity of the room.

There were two windows with heavy navy blue curtains to the left of the entrance and the four poster bed right below them. There was also a nightstand and a wardrobe, along with a door to the adjourning bathroom. The walls were a warm cream colour, the rest was held in different shades of brown. It was a homely room. He heard someone knock on his door and then an elf.

"Lords Potter, Tinky is sent to call yous for breakfast in half an hour. Is Lords Potter agreed to this?" he heard her voice through the door.

"Alright, I'll be down in a few minutes. Thank you, Tinky," Harry shouted back, hoping that the elf heard him, there eventually could be some privacy wards around the room he didn't know of. He was relieved when he heard the elf give her thanks and _pop_ping away. They had decided that a portkey would bring Harry's luggage back to Potter Manor, Harry himself would go with an elf he called the afternoon in Diagon Alley.

Later he was standing in front of the Floo-connected fireplace of Longbottom Manor, waiting for Neville, who had forgotten his money upstairs. Augusta was a bit embarrassed at the forgetfulness of her grandson, but Harry reassured her that he thought nothing of it and that Neville may surely grow out of this sooner or later. When the other boy came downstairs and was ready to leave, Augusta had a few parting words she wanted to say.

"Harry, it was truly pleasant that you could come. I have thought about your comment when you said that the Potter family is very small and have come to a decision. I am no Potter, but I would be honoured would you call me Gran. In other circumstances you truly may have called me that, so please, even if it is a bit late, call me your grandmother."

Harry was gobsmacked. He had seen that Augusta wanted to say something, but this was nothing he had expected, though he was pleased. He then remembered that he forgot to ask about Neville's parents, but thought that now was definitely the wrong time to ask.

"Thank you very much for the hospitality," Harry said, bowing lightly. "And thank you very much for the kind offer I'll accept gladly, Gran."

Augusta smiled happily and wished both her grandsons a wonderful day in Diagon Alley. She first watched Harry step into the emerald flames and leave in a whirl, then she looked how Neville stepped into the flames and also left. As soon as the roaring stopped the house became very silent and Lady Longbottom sighed, turned around and went to the drawing room to do the crosswords in the _Daily Prophet_.

* * *

Harry stumbled inelegantly out of the fireplace in the Leaky Cauldron, but he at least didn't fall right over. He remembered just in time to step away when Neville came flooing in, bringing a new fall of ash and soot with him. Harry made a mental note to ask where Neville had learnt to Floo-travel without falling out of the fireplace.

Both boys grinned and took off into Diagon Alley. They didn't need to stop by Gringotts as both had money with them, so they decided to go to Flourish & Blotts. Neville was cautious about the Monster book of Monsters, but then he didn't fare better or worse than any other person needing that book. As soon as they had fastened a belt around it the book became calmer, or at least it didn't try to eat you.

Harry had given Neville his first booklist, knowing that the other boy had taken Care of Magical Creatures and Divination, as he did. Harry looked at his new booklist and soon found himself standing with four books solely on Ancient Runes in his hands, starting to think that maybe it hadn't been such a great idea to switch if it meant he would carry these books around for at least two years. He sighed and searched the rest of his books, each subject again needed new books, except for Potions, so in the end Harry had nine books in total and felt like a mule. Neville had six and he didn't have an easier fate, the divination book was huge.

They paid and stuffed their books into the pouches they carried with them. They had an enlargement charm on them that allowed up to twenty pounds baggage. As it was still early and they didn't feel like going into the smelly apothecary just yet, they wandered down the street and soon came to a halt in front of _Quality Quidditch Supplies _that still had the Firebolt on display. They marvelled at the sleek racing broom and when they left were heatedly discussing Quidditch.

They finally went to the apothecary and the cauldron shop, Neville needed a new one, the last was so damaged that he didn't dare brew anything in it. After this they saw it was time for lunch and decided to go into the restaurant Harry had visited earlier when Demele had brought him here.

Once they sat there and had ordered their food and drink, Harry felt confident enough to ask Neville a few things.

"Neville… I don't know…," Harry began, searching for the right words. He didn't want to hurt the other boy's feelings. Frustrated he sighed. "Never mind. What I actually wanted to say is, er, Neville… why didn't I see any traces of your parents living in the manor?"

He saw immediately that it was something Neville didn't want to talk about, so he backed down in an instant. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude. You don't have to answer, I shouldn't have asked."

"No, no. I understand you wanted to ask, but… is it okay if I don't answer, yet?" Neville said quietly. He looked at Harry, smiling brokenly. Harry could only nod to that.

"Of course, no problem," Harry all but shouted. "I actually wanted to ask you another question, Neville."

Neville saw the mischievous glint in Harry's eyes and felt that it was worth the risk. "What is it?"

"How do you travel by Floo without embarrassing yourself at the arrival?"

Neville nearly choked on his pumpkin juice when he heard that. Here was Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Learnt-To-Be-Pureblood-In-Five-Days, asking him of all people how to floo without tumbling out at the arrival. After he calmed himself enough to not choke on his drink he tried to explain something very basic for any person grown up within the wizarding world to Harry. Somewhere between 'keep your elbows near you' and 'just let it happen' their food arrived and they continued to happily talk about anything they could think of.

After leaving the restaurant they went to Gabol and Japes Joke Shop and bought several kinds of items. Harry found himself particularly interested in a pair of beater bats that would bite the holder after a given amount of time. Harry bought it to the astonishment of Neville, who was highly doubtful that it would work on Fred and George, they were after all the Beaters in the team. Harry grinned and told him that it wouldn't be for them.

They ventured further to Sugarplum's Sweet Shop and bought an armload and a bit more sweets and chocolate. Harry was sure that there would be enough to live off of that, but Neville declined, saying that in a week the latest they needed new supplies. They laughed and talked until it neared five o'clock, when Neville had promised his grandma to return.

With much reluctance they went back to the Leaky Cauldron. At a free table they went over their shopping to make sure they had everything they needed for school. Miraculously neither had missed anything, only Harry had somehow ended up with a book on mythological creatures that was not required.

"Wait a second… ah, I remember. I thought it sounded interesting and bought it," Harry finally said after five minutes of pondering from where the book came.

Neville chuckled. "That's it? Well, if you say so. I'm sorry, but I have to leave. See you on the first?"

"See you on the first!" Harry said and waved as Neville went into the flames and back to his manor. When he had left Harry called for Demele and soon found himself in a familiar entrance hall.

"I'm home!" he called. He felt giddy, he always had wanted to say that, but the Dursley's house had never truly felt like home.

"Welcome back!" came Sirius voice from the library and soon after Sirius had Harry in a death hug. "How was it?"

Harry laughed but launched into the story, detailing to the best of his abilities the conversations and how the bond had formed, then describing everything they had done in Diagon Alley. Here he omitted the part where he had asked about Neville's parents, feeling that it wasn't his place to tell. He still had difficulties believing that there was an adult interested in what he did and Sirius truly seemed entranced. At the end he was grinning widely.

"Look at that, I never thought I'd see the day when Augusta Longbottom gets soft," Sirius said. They had moved to the kitchen to eat while Harry was telling his story and had just finished. "But it's wonderful how you handled her, she's not the easiest person."

"I had the feeling. From what Neville told us in school she can be downright scary. Though it's nice to have someone to call Gran, I never knew any of my grandparents, not even Aunt Petunia's parents."

Sirius' eyes were unfocused, but he still responded: "Yes, I know… your father's parents died shortly after we finished our education. They were wonderful people. Lily's parents died when we were twenty-one, sometimes in September 1981. And no, it wasn't Voldemort who killed them, they had some kind of disease."

Both then sunk into silence, following their own shrouded thoughts. Until Sirius excused himself and went to bed neither had moved an inch. Harry soon went to bed, too, but made a short detour to the family-room, wishing his parents and whoever else was there a good night.

He collapsed into his bed, but this time he remembered what he had dreamt the last few times. He remembered in his dozing the fluttering of its cloak, the coldness of its presence and the joy it had felt when Harry had talked to it.

* * *

_"Hello?" he called. The dark didn't stand right next to him, but he thought it was near. He didn't believe it was near, he knew for sure that it lurked just behind something._

_There the dark was. It floated some way below him, guarding for the case should he fall then it would be able to catch him. But he stood on the pinnacle, surveying his dreamscape. It had grown a bit, there was a spring of sorts happily dabbling next to the red castle. He smiled at it, the dreamscape seemed to become a bit fuller of sorts, a bit less hollow and less dreary._

_The dark floated up to him, now it was just beside him. "Milord. What is it you wish for?"_

_He was startled. He had had the feeling he had known the voice, but then he had only heard it at the end of some dreams. It was cold and seemed to bring nothing but despair and sadness, but for him the voice made an exception. The dark would protect him and its voice would not affect him as much._

_"Who are you?" he asked the dark. It still had no face, in fact it had no head, only the eerie black crown that was there just above where its head should be. The crown sucked all the light into it, but it was not big enough to swallow everything into darkness._

_"I am nothing, milord. I am you, but I am not you. I am a veil, but I show more than I disguise. I try to hide what is whitest, but fail because I need to fail. Milord, I am your vassal."_

_He didn't know how to respond to that, so he said nothing. He stood there, looking around and the dark did the same. It was strange, he didn't understand anything of the riddle the dark had said and he began to suspect it truly was no riddle. He sighed and decided to end it._

_"Well, then. I guess I'll be seeing you around. Sleep well, dark."_

_And the dream disappeared._


End file.
